


Sugar and Spice

by Dazzlious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Christmas, Easter, F/M, Halloween, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-01-18 20:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 59,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21282512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzlious/pseuds/Dazzlious
Summary: Ron and Harry make a bet with Hermione that she can't spend Halloween night alone in the Shrieking Shack. She knows it's going to be an easy bet to win - there's nothing in there and never has been, apart from Professor Lupin in werewolf form, and that was many years before. But is she right? And what is Draco Malfoy doing there?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 16
Kudos: 103





	1. Halloween 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I wanted to write a story for Halloween, but then real life got in the way and I didn’t have a chance to post it. It’s a few days late, but hopefully you’ll still enjoy it anyway. Thank you to my beta and friend, Mamacita, who always makes my stories shine, and thank you to you for reading. Dx

‘What are you doing for Halloween, Hermione?’

The bushy-haired girl looked up with a frown from the parchment she had been busy writing on and gazed at her two best friends, Harry and Ron, who were sitting across the table from her.

She shrugged. ‘No idea. I haven’t even considered it as it’s almost a week away and I’ve got slightly more important things to think about.’ She indicated the long parchment and the large stack of books around her workspace. ‘Why?’

‘We were wondering if you were up for a little bet,’ Ron said, trying to sound nonchalant.

‘A bet? What sort of bet? Why would I want to make a bet with you two?’ Hermione asked, looking and sounding confused. She sighed as she stared at their hopeful faces. ‘Go on then, tell me.’

Ron and Harry looked at each other for a second before Harry said, ‘We bet you can’t spend the whole of Halloween night completely on your own in the Shrieking Shack.’

Hermione stared at the boys with amusement. ‘Hang on, let me get this straight. The bet is for me to spend the night in the Shrieking Shack — that’s it, nothing else, just that?’

‘That’s right,’ Ron said.

‘What’s the catch?’ Hermione queried suspiciously. ‘There must be one because that’s not a bet, it’s a walk-over.’

‘You’ll soon change your mind when you’re stuck in there alone,’ Harry said.

‘Yeah. The place will scare the life out of you. Don’t you know how haunted it is?’ Ron added.

‘Haunted? It’s not haunted,’ Hermione replied with scorn. ‘It’s only called the Shrieking Shack because of the noises Professor Lupin made when he was trapped in there as a werewolf. He told us that, remember? There’s _nothing_ else in there . . . it’s completely empty.’

‘That’s what you think,’ Ron retorted. ‘So, if that’s the case, then you should be happy to accept the bet.’

‘What do I get if I win?’ Hermione asked, then, frowning, she continued suspiciously, ‘Or maybe I should ask, what do you two get if I lose? Which I won’t, by the way.’

‘If you lose you have to do all our homework for us, without complaint, until Christmas,’ Ron said. ‘What do you want if you win?’

Hermione stared at him and shook her head in disbelief. ‘You’re doing this to get out of doing your homework,’ she said, sounding disgusted.

Ron shrugged. ‘So, are you going to take the bet or not?’

‘Of course I am,’ Hermione retorted. ‘It’ll be the easiest bet I’ve ever won. There’s _nothing_ in the Shrieking Shack. As for what I want . . . when I win neither of you is to ask me for _any_ help at all with _any_ of your schoolwork until after the Christmas holidays. That will be my prize, watching you two doing your own work for a change, and it will teach you a lesson for trying to cheat.’

Harry and Ron looked at each other, grinning. They knew, as Hermione obviously didn’t, that a whole posse of ghosts and monsters would be taking up residence in the Shrieking Shack for Halloween. And while Hermione might not be scared of ghosts in general, as they were always flitting about the castle, when she was alone in the scary ruin on the edge of Hogsmeade in the dark and with no one around to help her it was going to be a different matter.

Although they would swear to the contrary if she made them, they had a few tricks up their sleeve that would help to ensure their friend was terrified into losing the bet. They had spent weeks discussing it and getting help from Ron’s twin brothers, Fred and George, who were always happy to help bring Hermione down a peg or two as they still remembered the way she had reacted to them testing their experimental sweets on the first years whilst they were at school. With some rather good planning and the twins’ extensive budget available to them, Harry and Ron were ready to scare Hermione out of her skin.

‘All right, I accept, but you need to guarantee that you’re not going to be there trying to scare me or the bet will be invalidated and I’ll automatically win,’ she said with a smirk.

‘I promise _we_ won’t be anywhere near the Shrieking Shack on Halloween night,’ Ron said solemnly as he took her hand to shake it. ‘_We’re_ not that stupid — and we know it’s haunted still.’

Hermione shook her head as she shook Harry’s hand, too, a look of pity on her face. ‘As I said before there’s nothing in the Shrieking Shack worth getting scared over, and I look forward to watching you both struggle with taking your own notes in class and doing your homework without me to check it for you for the next couple of months. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an Arithmancy essay to complete before I go to bed.’

Ron and Harry moved away, leaving Hermione alone at the table while they went to set up a game of wizard chess.

Harry chuckled deeply. ‘I can’t believe she went for it. I honestly thought she would be more suspicious, especially when the bet seemed too good to be true.’

‘Well, you know Hermione, she always knows best — and let’s face it, the chance to punish us for cheating was the bait that was always going to work and it made her careless,’ Ron said, sounding smugly satisfied. He was grinning, too. ‘So, now all we’ve got to do is work out what to scare her with first,’ he added as he made the opening move.

* * *

Hermione pushed open the door, and with her wand ahead of her she walked in and looked around the dusty room. The Shrieking Shack was exactly as she remembered it from the last time she had been there, back in the third year when Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black, disguised as a large black dog, had dragged Ron in there and she and Harry had followed.

If anything it was even dustier and more ramshackle now, which wasn’t much of a surprise; but here as in every other room she had been in so far there was, as she had expected, absolutely nothing to see except for mouldering furniture and peeling wallpaper.

She had no idea what Harry and Ron were planning but she was sure they must be up to something. They had to be as aware as she that there was nothing in the house, so anything she came across had to have been devised by them purely to scare her. As long as she remembered that nothing could frighten her, especially not enough to make her run screaming from the place. She was absolutely determined to win the bet if it was the last thing she did.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione thought she saw a movement. She stopped and waited for a moment, stilling her breathing as she waited for her heart to calm and the sudden goosebumps to go. Then, turning slowly and keeping as quiet as she could, she crept stealthily into the adjoining room, determined to be the one doing the scaring.

There was nothing there.

Hermione frowned as she looked around the room. She was sure she had seen something. She turned to go back through the door and her heart almost stopped beating. There in front of her, blocking her exit, were three ghosts, all women.

She clutched her hand to her chest for a moment, willing her heart to resume its normal steady pace rather than the clattering rhythm it was currently following as she pointed her wand waveringly towards them.

‘Are you looking for someone?’ one of the ghosts, the oldest-looking, asked interestedly.

Hermione stared at them, impressed now that she had got over her shock. They certainly looked like real ghosts but how on earth Harry and Ron had convinced them to come to the Shrieking Shack she had absolutely no idea.

‘He’s downstairs,’ the second one said helpfully.

Hermione looked confused. ‘Who’s downstairs?’

‘Your true love,’ the third and youngest-looking of the three said dreamily.

‘Excuse me?’ Hermione said, sounding even more confused. She had dropped her wand arm.

‘Your true love — he’s downstairs,’ the third ghost said again.

‘My true love,’ Hermione repeated slowly.

The three ghosts nodded simultaneously.

‘Halloween is the time when the veil is at its thinnest and the time when you can glimpse your true love,’ the first said.

‘What a load of old rubbish. Anyway, I’m not looking for my true love,’ Hermione told them. ‘I’m looking for traps and things designed to scare me.’

The second ghost smiled. ‘Oh, there are plenty of those in here tonight, too. But you must find your true love.’

Hermione thought of Ron and Harry. Obviously, they were in the house somewhere as she had suspected, even though they had promised her they wouldn’t be, and the ghosts were obviously directing her to find them and presumably encounter some more shocks along the way.

‘I’m sure my true love can wait,’ she retorted, wanting to show that she wasn’t willing to play their game.

The third ghost looked almost scared at her words. ‘You must find him,’ she entreated. ‘You must do as he says. Your life depends on it.’

‘Really?’ Hermione sounded sceptical. ‘And how am I supposed to know this true love of mine?’

‘The next man you meet is your true love,’ the second said, sounding as if it was obvious.

‘You must listen to him,’ the third said again.

‘And you must be extremely careful,’ the first added.

Suddenly there was a flash of bright light that made Hermione screw up her eyes in pain. When she opened them the ghosts were gone.

‘Nice one, guys,’ she said out loud to the empty room, in case her friends were close by and listening in. ‘Not scary, though. A bit pathetic, actually. I would have thought you could come up with something a bit better than some simpering ghosts waffling on about my true love.’

She waited for a moment but there was no sound and no sign of the ghosts returning. Deciding this meant she was in the wrong place, Hermione left the room to continue her search for Harry and Ron and their tricks.

* * *

Draco Malfoy looked around him with distaste as he made his way through the decrepit house. ‘Shack’ was definitely a good term for the place, he thought sourly as he brushed yet more dust and cobwebs from his trousers.

The hovel was definitely spooky, he had to admit, but having overheard Potty and the Weasel making their plans he was aware there was nothing of any real danger in the building. Draco was looking forward to seeing what frights they had come up with for the Mudblood and twisting the knife by adding his own touches; he knew that while she might have suspicions about the sort of things her friends were planning, she definitely wasn’t expecting him to be there.

He wandered through the lower level searching for any trace of the Gryffindor idiots’ scare-traps, but so far he had found nothing. Draco knew Granger was upstairs — he could hear her, talking out loud as if to herself, although he assumed it was in response to something her friends had already done to her.

Draco couldn’t hear what she was saying but she didn’t seem particularly scared although to be fair to the idiots the night was still young; they were obviously lulling her into a false sense of security before hitting her with the big shocks. He hoped it would be something spectacular as the Weasel’s brothers were involved. If nothing else, the twins were a pair of showmen and could surely be expected to provide something special.

He heard a noise and turned, creeping in the direction of the sound to see if it was the idiots. They had promised Granger they wouldn’t be at the shack but he knew if they were anything like him they wouldn’t be able to stay away, eager to see their friend’s reaction to the tricks they were playing on her, and he didn’t want to get caught by them. Better to know where they were and then put himself somewhere else and watch the show play out until the perfect moment came along for him to join in.

Draco frowned as the new room contained nothing of interest — and no one, certainly not the Mudblood’s friends as he had expected. He turned back and was about to continue his methodical search when a light in the next room caught his eye. Slowly and quietly he made his way through the door, scanning the room rapidly to ensure there were no wizard inhabitants before focussing on the ghost in the centre of the room.

For a moment, he wondered whether this was part of the show or a real apparition, but he reminded himself that there was nothing in the shack that hadn’t been provided by the Weasley brothers. Except for the filth — he assumed that was real enough. He stared at the woman, for it was a young woman dressed in an old-fashioned gown with a massive skirt and wearing a big powdered wig. If it was an illusion it was an excellent one, she really did look like a ghost.

‘You need to help her,’ the woman said suddenly.

She glided forward as if she was about to grasp Draco’s hands and shaken by the movement he stepped back, his heart hammering. Okay, so this was an interactive show and somehow he had just become involved. The previous room obviously wasn’t as empty as he had thought and he had inadvertently triggered the scenario that was now playing out.

‘Please, you must help her or she will die tonight,’ the woman said, her voice pleading as she continued to come towards him.

Draco carried on backing up but he hit a wall and could move no further. This was a little too uncomfortably realistic for his liking.

‘What do you mean, she’ll die?’ he asked, unable to stop himself even though his mind was still trying to tell him this was just an illusion. ‘Do you mean Granger?’

The ghost nodded mournfully. She waited for a second, then turned to look back the way Draco had come; as if waiting for something. A few seconds later there was the sound of glass breaking, quite far away but definitely in the shack.

The ghost moved forward until she was almost touching Draco.

‘You must see and understand,’ she told him seriously. Sounding wracked with pain, she added, ‘And then you must make her leave this place. You have to make her understand. Only _you_ can save her.’

There was another noise from somewhere deep within the house and the ghost and Draco both automatically turned to look in the direction of the sound.

‘Go,’ the ghost said urgently. ‘You have to know the truth in order to help her.’

She backed off to allow Draco to move and then, before he knew what was happening, she winked out of existence. He took a deep breath and looked around again while debating what to do. He really was impressed at the quality of the illusion, although he wasn’t so sure about becoming part of the story.

But maybe the twins had set it up so that anyone triggering the illusion would feel as if they were part of it. He thought again about the breaking glass. Should he go and investigate or was that part of the illusion too, designed to make the whole thing seem more real?

No one in their right mind was going to break into the Shrieking Shack tonight as it still had a fearsome enough reputation to put people off. None of the villagers would go near the place, not even during the day, and certainly not on Halloween night.

He was convinced the breaking glass was part of whatever the twins had planned, but something — Draco wasn’t sure whether it was the tone of the ghost’s voice or the way she had disappeared — was troubling him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

But what did it matter? He didn’t really care what happened to the Mudblood. It would actually make things easier if she died tonight, especially if he couldn’t in any way be linked to her death. It would have the added bonus of ruining her friends’ lives and might even see them put in Azkaban, where the Dark Lord would be able to deal with them once and for all.

Draco knew he should leave and go back to the castle and pretend he knew nothing about Potter and Weasley’s plans, making sure he was nowhere in the vicinity if something bad went down. It was a tough choice, though: stay and see where the scenario went and hope it wasn’t real, or bail and wait to see if Granger came back in the morning.

‘Why are you still here?’

Draco assumed it was going to be the young ghost again, but when he looked up he realised an older woman dressed in even more ancient clothes was making her way towards him and looking grim.

‘She needs to be saved and you must do it. But you need to know the truth.’

‘This has nothing to do with me,’ Draco said, suddenly feeling put upon.

‘You have to save her. Without you, she will die, and that will be the biggest mistake you will ever make,’ the ghost said.

Draco was unsurprised that the ghost disappeared almost immediately after giving her pronouncement. She had obviously been triggered by the fact that he hadn’t moved. That was proof positive that this was just part of the illusion and Granger would be fine.

But the second ghost’s appearing unsettled him more than he already was, and Draco no longer had any interest in hanging around to wait to see what happened, especially if it was going to involve him triggering further scenarios.

If the Mudblood got through a night of these unnervingly lifelike apparitions that could only get scarier as the night went on then she deserved to win the bet. She would have enough to contend with from the Weasleys as it was, without him joining in.

As rapidly as he could manage without making any noise, Draco made his way back through the shack, still wary in case he came across Granger or her friends and not wanting any more illusions to be triggered on his way out. 

He made it all the way to the front door, the nearest exit, without anything else happening but soon discovered that it was locked up tight and there appeared to be no way to open it, even with magic although he wasn’t quite sure why this was. That meant he had no choice but to go back through the shack and find the tunnel that led to the Whomping Willow.

Sighing at the thought of having to look out for more traps, Draco started on his way, his skin crawling as he headed towards the area from which he was certain the sound of breaking glass had come. He was probably going to trigger another scenario, and if it was as undetectable as the previous ones there would be nothing he could do to stop it from playing out.

Draco heard a noise ahead in the direction he needed to go; a strange muffled, shuffling, dragging noise. For a moment he wondered whether it was Granger, having descended from the upper level without him realising.

As he pulled his wand from his pocket and walked towards the sound Draco remembered the breaking glass and thought of the locked front door. What if someone _had_ been trying to get in and had broken the glass when the door proved inaccessible? If that was the case, whoever was ahead might not be Granger after all.

His heart beating faster than before and his breathing shallow, Draco slowly inched forward until he could look into the room, hopefully without setting off another trap. His heart almost stopped when he saw the inhabitants of the kitchen and he suddenly prayed that these, too, were just another of the twins’ illusions — although if they were, they were a particularly cruel trick to play on the Mudblood, regardless of how annoying she was.

He moved to the side of the door and pressed himself against the wall as he watched more closely, trying to ascertain whether the inhabitants really were hags. They were throwing open the decrepit cupboards, clearly searching for food; both of them were extremely hungry, Draco ascertained from the grunts he managed to decipher. This was particularly bad news. Now he understood the ghosts’ desire to have him discover what was going on and assist Granger in escaping.

It was just an illusion, he reminded himself, but something inside his stomach was twisting in a way that said it didn’t believe the hags were only smoke and mirrors. The easy way to test this theory would be to go into the kitchen and see their reaction — true hags would show loathing for him as a male, they really only liked to eat females, but if they were as hungry as they appeared they might still attack him if they thought he was a threat.

_If _they were real hags, Draco reminded himself. If they were just illusions, then they would try to scare him but would be able to do no real damage even if they attacked. But even knowing they probably were illusions he found himself incredibly reluctant to confront the beings in the kitchen. His legs just wouldn’t move.

So, what now? He could ignore the hags, who would probably do likewise with him if he didn’t disturb them, and carry on back towards the tunnel entrance and school, where a nice warm mug of cocoa and his comfortable bed was waiting for him; or he could gird his loins, summon up his courage and confront the probably illusory beings to see if they really were hags.

But before he could make the decision he heard another sound. Someone was coming towards him, and as they weren’t being particularly stealthy about it Draco didn’t think it was the idiots, nor would it be the ghosts he had seen previously, illusions or not.

The hags had stopped their searching and were now sniffing the air as if catching an aroma, faint but noticeable, and Draco felt his blood run cold. He was sure it was Granger coming towards him and the hags had caught her scent.

Whether they were illusions or not Granger was in danger, and now that she had put herself in harm’s way he would have to warn her — somehow, he was unable to simply walk away and leave her to her fate, regardless of who or what she was.

His legs suddenly working, Draco forced himself away from the kitchen and headed down the corridor towards Hermione, needing to stop her from coming any closer.

* * *

Hermione screamed as Draco suddenly appeared in front of her. The shock of someone solid appearing so unexpectedly made her heart skip a beat as she gasped for breath. It took a few seconds before she realised who it was, and she glared at him angrily.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘You need to move . . . now!’ Draco ordered.

He started to try to push her back the way she had come, knowing there was no way they would be able to get to the tunnel entrance whilst the hags were still in the vicinity of the kitchen. Hermione’s scent would draw them to her and then things would get nasty.

Hermione started to push back, annoyed both at Draco’s manhandling of her and because he had startled her.

‘Let go of me, Malfoy. What do you think you’re doing?’

‘You have to go back,’ Draco said urgently. He heard a noise behind him and realised the hags had left the kitchen. They were coming for Hermione. ‘You can’t go that way. You have to go back and go quickly.’

Hermione stared at him suspiciously. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing here, Malfoy, but if you think you’re going to scare me you’re out of luck. As I told Harry and Ron, I don’t scare easily, especially when there’s nothing here to frighten me. Now let me go. I need to go and investigate that way as I haven’t been down there yet.’ She pointed her wand in the direction of the kitchen.

Draco shook his head frantically, sure he could hear the dragging stumble of the hags as they made their slow and torturous way towards them.

‘You can’t go that way, Granger. There are hags down there.’

Hermione stared at him blankly. ‘So what? They won’t scare me either.’

‘Not pretend hags, real ones,’ Draco snapped, now convinced in his bones that this was true. ‘This isn’t something your stupid friends have dreamt up, this is the real thing, and you’re in extreme danger. We need to get you away from here, need to hide until they move elsewhere in the shack, and then you need to leave.’

He tried to take hold of Hermione’s arm but she shook him off angrily.

‘I’m not going anywhere and I’m certainly not leaving the shack. I’m going to win this bet and you’re not going to stop me.’ She frowned. ‘Did Harry and Ron put you up to this?’

Draco shook his head. ‘No. I overheard them talking about the bet so I thought I’d come and give you a scare. But I found the hags had broken in, so I had to warn you so you could get away.’

‘Why am I the one who needs to leave?’ Hermione asked belligerently. Something in her mind from her conversation with the ghosts was trying to filter through but she was determined not to let it, otherwise it would make this whole thing real rather than some stupid prank.

‘Because they’ll eat you,’ Draco said impatiently as if it was obvious. He stared at her. ‘You do know about hags, right?’ 

‘That’s all just fairy stories that stuff about them eating people,’ Hermione said. ‘Another minority group unfairly categorised and pilloried for being different from wizards.’

‘Bloody Mudbloods, you don’t know anything,’ Draco said in exasperation, growing angry himself now.

He could hear the shuffling and grunting as the hags drew closer. The sniffing grew louder, too, the nearer they got. He grabbed Hermione’s arm and began to drag her although she fought him and he didn’t manage to get very far.

Draco sighed loudly. ‘Hags are definitely cannibals. But unless they really have no other choice, they only eat girls.’

Hermione looked at him sceptically. ‘Yeah, right. Why’s that, then?’

‘Because you’re made of sugar and spice and all things nice, of course,’ Draco told her without a trace of amusement.

Hermione roared with laughter, which drew a louder grunt and faster movement from the hags. Draco looked worried.

‘What, and you’re made of snips and snails and puppy dogs’ tails, are you?’ She couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.

‘Maybe,’ Draco muttered. Then he added, ‘Where do you think the saying came from? That’s probably why hags don’t eat boys. But whatever the case, there are two hags on their way here right now and they’ve got your scent. So please, Granger, let’s stop arguing and just go away from here until they lose track of you and go somewhere that we can get past them without a fight.’

‘I’ve got my wand,’ Hermione said, waving it in his face. ‘I’ll hex them if they’re that bad.’

Draco shook his head, frowning. ‘Hexing doesn’t work. They’re witches gone to the bad and they’re protected by strange Dark magic — stupefying doesn’t work on them and they’re relentless. If you don’t get away from them they’ll kill you.’

Hermione sighed. This whole thing sounded like a huge wind-up, and knowing Malfoy, the ‘hags’ were probably Crabbe and Goyle.

‘I don’t believe y—’ she began, but the hags were now close enough to see. Hermione’s stomach dropped as she realised the things coming towards her weren’t Malfoy’s cronies, and she desperately tried to remember anything she could about hags, but her brain was suddenly failing her.

‘Run,’ Draco told her.

But Hermione seemed frozen to the spot.

_So much for not being scared_, he thought, although in truth he could understand her terror. His insides had turned to ice again and he wasn’t even on the menu. As the hags closed in on Hermione, Draco considered the options. Spells were out, and he didn’t much fancy attacking one without a weapon, and certainly not both of them at once. Hermione was a nightmare to move so he wouldn’t be able to drag her away, which left . . . .

The hags were almost on Hermione now, their guttural grunts more fevered as they sniffed the air and smelt the girl so close to them. As they reached out for her with their long, thin, clawed hands, Draco had a brainwave. He didn’t know if it would work but it was worth a shot. He shoved Hermione hard, pushing her to the floor, then followed her down, completely covering her body with his as his hand found her mouth to try to limit her breathing.

His lips were against her ear as he whispered, ‘Whatever you do, don’t move and try not to panic.’

Hermione lay there underneath him, not entirely sure what was going on. Although she hated to admit it, she was absolutely terrified. There was no way Harry and Ron could have procured hags and brought them to the shack, nor would they be that malicious.

As a Pureblood, Ron would surely know all about hags and their preferred type of food as they were the stuff of children’s stories, and whilst they wanted to scare her they didn’t want to hurt her — which meant that the gruesome creatures bearing down on them really were proper living, breathing hags as Draco had tried to warn her.

She had absolutely no idea how Draco lying on top of her was going to help, but at least if the hags attacked they would get him first, which was some small comfort. 

Again, her mind tried to talk to her about what the ghosts had said, but she wasn’t interested. It was true that they had been right about her being in danger, and they had told her she should listen to Draco. Considering the position they were currently in, the ghosts had been right about that, too, but there was just no way Draco was . . . .

Her mind was forced away from the thought by the hags, who had now reached the couple and were prowling around their prone bodies, sniffing and grunting.

‘Where’s the girl gone?’ one rasped, sounding confused.

The other sniffed loudly. ‘No sweet sugar and spice here, only nasty boy-smell.’

The hag prodded Draco with one of her sharp-clawed fingers but he continued to lie still, making sure he was covering Hermione. The hags, looking disgusted as his scent reached them once more, backed away.

‘Need to find sweet sugar and spice,’ the first said. ‘Track her down and taste her flesh.’

‘And grind her bones,’ the other added.

Still grumbling and sniffing, the hags made their way down the corridor ahead, knowing that the girl hadn’t got past them so she must have fled that way. Draco and Hermione continued to lie still until they disappeared into another room.

Draco removed his hand from Hermione’s mouth.

‘We need to go, Granger, before they realise you’re not down there and come back,’ he said quietly.

Hermione knew he was right. She had just heard the hags talking and all that stuff about what boys and girls were made of so, therefore, it had to be true, but it just seemed so mental — and she didn’t want to leave the shack completely. If she did that she would lose the bet, and if nothing else she didn’t want to have to do three lots of homework for the next few months.

‘I’m not leaving the shack,’ she told Draco as he stood up and held out his hand to help her up too.

Draco looked at her as if she was stupid, which he honestly thought she was.

‘You can’t stay here, you heard what they said. If they catch you they’ll eat you. I know they’re slow and their eyesight is bad, but they’ve got an excellent sense of smell and they’re completely relentless once they get going. They won’t stop until they track you down and we’ve got no way of stopping them.’

‘I can’t lose the bet. I haven’t got time for all that homework,’ Hermione said snippily.

Draco looked at her in stunned surprise. ‘That’s what this stupid bet is about . . . homework?’

Hermione gave a brief nod. ‘If Ron and Harry win I have to do all their homework until Christmas. It was going to be an easy bet to win as there should have been nothing here. It’s been empty ever since Professor Lupin left school, regardless of what the stories around the village are about the place.’

She realised Draco was still holding her hand and pulled away, glancing at her watch as she did so. She was suddenly feeling a little daft. It _was_ a stupid bet and she should have said no, but her friends had known just what buttons to push to make her agree to it.

If the hags were real then maybe the ghosts had been real as well, and they had told her she was in serious trouble and needed to leave. But there was still five hours to go before Hermione could leave the shack without losing the bet.

‘You do know that your _friends_,’ Draco said the word friends snidely, ‘were planning all sorts of things to scare the crap out of you, don’t you?’

Hermione nodded again. ‘I knew they had to have something planned, which makes it much easier. As I said, I knew there was nothing in here and hasn’t been for years, so it was clear that if I came across anything it would have been placed here purely to scare me, and knowing that is enough to stop it from working. The ghosts didn’t have any effect on me, apart from the initial shock of them appearing, but these hags are a different matter.’

Draco looked at her appraisingly for a moment, and seeing her set face he said, ‘Well, can we at least put some more distance between ourselves and the hags? It won’t be long before they realise they’ve been tricked and come back.’

They started walking rapidly in the opposite direction from the gruesome creatures.

‘I’m still not willing to leave the shack,’ Hermione said. ‘I don’t care what you think I’m not losing the bet. Anyway, you don’t have to stay. I don’t need you and I’m supposed to spend the night here alone.’

Draco rounded on her furiously. ‘You don’t need me? You would be _dead_ if it wasn’t for me, Granger. I’m sure those idiots you’re friends with will understand why you had to vacate the premises. I can’t believe even they’re stupid enough to bring hags here.’

‘Of course they didn’t do it,’ Hermione retorted, ‘but that won’t stop them from claiming victory if I leave. Are you going to help me with the homework if that happens?’

‘I wasn’t the one stupid enough to make such a pathetic bet in the first place,’ Draco sneered.

‘So if you’re not going to help and you haven’t got any bright ideas about how to get rid of the hags, then there’s no point in you staying, is there?’ Hermione said coldly.

‘Fine. I should have let you get eaten,’ Draco replied, his voice mulish. ‘You might at least be a bit grateful. I did just save your life, after all.’

Hermione was about to retaliate again, but at these words, she paused for a moment. Draco was right. He had just saved her life and acting ungratefully towards him wasn’t going to make the situation any better. She knew it was partly an automatic response to the boy she’d had so many run-ins with in the past. It was hard to be grateful to him after all the nasty things he had done to her over the years.

She was also railing against the advice given to her by the three ghosts. If she was honest, Hermione was feeling unnerved. If the hags were real, and they certainly appeared to be, then it was likely that the ghosts were real, too — their advice about her being in danger certainly seemed to have been accurate. But if that was the case, then it meant that what they had said about her true love being the next man she met could be true, too, and that meant Draco Malfoy was her—

Once again she clamped down on that thought, not willing to entertain it for even one moment. Draco Malfoy wasn’t the love of her life, he was her greatest enemy, and one automatic gesture made because he felt guilty about leaving her to die wasn’t going to convince her that he was her knight in shining armour.

But she should at least be civil to him. Maybe she could get him to help her get rid of the hags. There had to be a way, she just couldn’t remember it at the moment. But it definitely made sense to put as much distance between her and the hags as possible while she was working out what to do, she just had to make sure that Draco didn’t lead her out of the Shrieking Shack while she was running away from them.

Now suitably chastened, Hermione looked seriously at Draco.

‘You’re right, Malfoy, I apologise. You did save my life and I haven’t been as grateful about it as I should be.’ She held out her hand to shake his, but he looked at it with confusion.

‘I don’t want to shake your hand,’ he told her. ‘I want to leave this place.’

‘I told you, you can leave,’ Hermione said, trying to keep her voice neutral.

‘I want you to come with me,’ Draco said. ‘You’re the one in danger. Why won’t you see that?’

Hermione sighed. ‘I do see it, but as I said, I’m not willing to lose the bet, so unless you can convince Harry and Ron to back down I’ve got no choice but to stay here all night, hags or no hags.’

‘You really are mental, Granger,’ Draco replied, shaking his head.

His voice was still full of scorn, but already he could feel himself becoming resigned to staying at the shack with Hermione. His mind turned over, trying to work out how they could defeat the hags.

It was unlikely they would leave any time in the near future and certainly not until they had scoured the entire house searching for their prey, and Hermione was clearly going nowhere, so they had to come up with a plan.

Draco just wished he had some idea of how to get rid of them. In truth, he had never taken much notice during that part of Defence Against the Dark Arts class as he wasn’t the target audience for a hag attack and never expected to be involved in one.

‘Let’s go upstairs,’ Hermione suggested.

Draco shook his head. ‘No, if we do that we’ll be trapped. At least if we go that way,’ he pointed towards the kitchen, ‘we have a chance of escaping if we need to.’

Hermione considered for a moment. She still thought upstairs was a good option as there were plenty of interconnecting rooms and she was sure she could avoid the hags if they managed to make it up the stairs. But Draco was obviously going to fight her on this, too.

‘I’m going back upstairs. I know the layout of the place as I’ve been all over it and I’m certain I can evade capture if they do get up there. Having said that, seeing the way they walk I’m not sure they would be able to manage the stairs anyway.’ Before Draco could complain about her plan she added, ‘I was thinking maybe you could go back to Hogwarts and break into the Library, see if you can find anything about hags and how to get rid of them. There must be a way, otherwise the world would be overrun with them.’

‘And what happens when I get caught by a teacher?’ Draco asked sourly. For some reason that he couldn’t quite ascertain he was a little annoyed that Hermione was giving him the brush-off and was still trying to send him away. 

‘You could tell them about the hags,’ Hermione said. ‘I’m sure they won’t want hags taking up residence here and will do something about them, and I know you can come up with some excuse for how you discovered them that doesn’t involve me.’

‘So now you want me to lie and sneak around the school for you,’ Draco moaned.

Hermione sighed. ‘You don’t have to help me, Draco, you’ve already done more than enough. So if you’d rather you can just go back to your dormitory and forget about what I’m doing. I just thought that if you wanted to help finding a book on how to defeat a hag would be a great start.’ She looked at him for a moment and then added jokingly, ‘If nothing else if it’s heavy enough we could throw it at them.’

Draco gave a small chuckle at her comment as she smiled at him ruefully.

‘But I don’t want to leave you alone,’ he admitted. ‘You’ve been upstairs and I’ve been all around down here and we’ve not seen any sign of Potter and Weasley being here. So perhaps we can both get out, go to the Library, and then come back and sort out the hags without them even realising you left.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘They might not be here at the moment but they must have left something that would tell them if I left the shack. I can’t risk it.’ She sighed in frustration. ‘It’s so annoying that there’s no library here — or any books at all, for that matter.’

‘Perhaps there’s a hidden room somewhere,’ Draco suggested. ‘There quite often is in these old places.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘No, there’s nothing like that here. The place was derelict for years and then Professor Dumbledore took it over so he could house Professor Lupin during the full moon. I’m sure if there had been anything useful here he would have retrieved it and taken it back to the school.

‘You’ve been walking around. You know the only stuff in here is a few pieces of old furniture, and none of that’s sturdy enough to use as a weapon. It would probably turn to dust if we tried to hit the hags with it. Anyway, I’m going upstairs so it’s up to you. Come with me or go back to the school; the choice is yours.’

‘I still think you ought to reconsider,’ Draco said.

Hermione shook her head. ‘No. For me that’s the best place — and I need to move soon because however slow those hags are, they’ll be coming back, eventually, and I don’t want to still be here when they do. What are you going to do?’

Draco looked at her appraisingly for a moment. ‘Promise me you won’t do anything stupid,’ he said seriously.

Hermione nodded. ‘I know I laughed about the sugar and spice thing, but I heard what those hags said so maybe it’s true after all. I’m going to keep away from them. I have no interest in confronting them until I know how to defeat them.’

‘In that case, I’ll go back to the school,’ Draco said, committing himself to helping Hermione. ‘Perhaps I should just go and tell the teachers about the hags.’

‘Don’t do that unless you really can’t find anything in the Library,’ Hermione pleaded. ‘If the teachers come here they’ll search every inch of the place and I’ll get caught. I don’t know what the punishment would be but I’m damn sure we’re not supposed to be in here, especially at this time of night, and I don’t want to get expelled this close to our N.E.W.T.s.’

‘I’ll do what I can,’ Draco promised.

‘Oh, and while you’re in the Library you might want to have a look and see if you can find a copy of _Holidays with Hags_, that book by Gilderoy Lockhart,’ Hermione said, suddenly remembering it. ‘He wrote a whole book about how to get rid of them.’

Draco snorted. ‘Yeah, but that bloke was a bloody idiot and a crap wizard. I don’t think I’d want to trust anything he said.’

‘But he only wrote the books,’ Hermione explained. ‘He told Harry and Ron that other people did all the stuff he wrote about, he just went around collecting their stories and putting a memory charm on them so they didn’t remember they had done it, then passed it off as something he had done himself. So the advice contained in the book should be sound if you can find it.’

‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ Draco promised, and he hurried off to find the tunnel back into the school grounds.

Hermione glanced around her briefly and then went back to the stairs, taking them two at a time. A dim white light, growing brighter and spreading across the hall, eventually divided into three distinct shapes. The ghostly women looked up the stairs at Hermione’s retreating back.

‘Why didn’t she go with him?’ the young one asked worriedly.

‘We told her . . . and we told him,’ the second said.

The last and oldest said nothing for a moment, her head tilted slightly as if she was listening.

‘She doesn’t want to accept that he is her true love,’ she said slowly, her voice grave but soft. ‘And he has not yet realised how important she is to him. But before the end of the night, he will.’

‘If she survives that long,’ the second one pointed out.

‘This one is powerful, and now she knows the danger that lurks within the shack tonight. She is careful, and as long as her true love doesn’t fail in his quest they should prevail,’ the old one replied.

‘They should have both left,’ the young one interjected, wringing her hands worriedly. ‘If something goes wrong—’

‘It won’t,’ the elder stated confidently. ‘There is a new path now and they are both set upon it. Our work here is done. No more guidance is required.’

And then the ghosts coalesced and grew dimmer, no longer detectable as separate entities but merely a pulsing mass of white light that slowly faded, like mist burning off a summer meadow, until there was nothing left.


	2. Halloween 2

Hermione sat on the four-poster bed in the room where Sirius had taken Ron. It was incredibly dusty and she had to keep blowing her nose to make sure she didn’t sneeze and give away her location to the hags.

On her return upstairs, she had walked through every room once again to see if there was anything of any use in them but had found nothing and the ghosts hadn’t reappeared to provide any more words of wisdom either.

Eventually, having got fed up with creeping around in order to keep her footfalls silent, Hermione had drifted to the bedroom. She was feeling strangely on edge, and although she wasn’t scared she had to admit that she wished now that she had never made that stupid bet.

As she waited she could feel herself becoming tenser. Hermione knew it was a mixture of stress at being so helpless and having no choice but to stay in the house when she could have better spent her time researching how to get rid of the hags, frustration at being unable to do anything to sort the situation without Draco’s help, and utter boredom at having to wait up here with nothing to occupy her except for the occasional creak of the walls or floor.

Hermione was also a little confused. She had assumed the ghosts were there because of Harry and Ron and either weren’t real or were primed to tell her certain things in order to lead her on a trail through the house that would end with her friends attempting to scare her badly enough to leave it. But the ghosts had only spoken to her once, there had been nothing else in any of the rooms she had visited, and then suddenly the hags had appeared.

She still wasn’t convinced they were real and it wasn’t just Draco trying to scare her, although they were pretty terrifying. But if they weren’t real and were part of Harry and Ron’s plans, that would point to Draco having teamed up with them.

Surely that wasn’t possible — his relationship with her friends was at least as bad as it had been with her until tonight, although it would fit with him being present in the shack, especially as Harry and Ron couldn’t be there without nullifying the bet. It would also explain why Draco had tried so hard to get her to leave.

But if everything was just an illusion somehow created by her friends, then she had no need to think about or fret over the words of the ghosts any longer — it was all just a load of codswallop designed to throw her off course.

Hermione decided she wasn’t going to sit around any longer. It was clear that Harry and Ron had somehow got Draco to help them; all that stuff about sugar and spice was obviously complete crap and no one in their right mind would ever fall for it.

She had no doubt that Draco was still around somewhere, probably with Harry and Ron, laughing about how she was too scared to go downstairs because of a stupid children’s rhyme. She would show them. She was going to go downstairs and sort out those so-called hags to show she wasn’t afraid, and then she was going to find her friends and that snake Malfoy and teach them a lesson for trying to scare her.

With her wand out in front of her, Hermione made her way back towards the stairs, reminding herself that she had nothing to be scared of — the hags weren’t real, they were just an illusion.

That was fine until she actually reached the stairs.

The hags were standing at the bottom, sniffing the air, and Hermione knew within seconds they had realised she was there as they started going on about sugar and spice again. They weren’t tackling the stairs, though. It appeared she had been correct about the hags not being able to get up them, but Hermione couldn’t get down, either, and was effectively trapped until someone came to rescue her.

This wasn’t exactly how she had seen her night going, but now she was in a position to examine them more carefully, Hermione was as certain as Draco had been that they really were hags, not just an illusion.

After giving a silent apology to the Slytherin for doubting him, Hermione remembered the promise she had made him that she wouldn’t do anything stupid. But she couldn’t just go back upstairs in case the hags decided to attempt the stairs and follow her. It would be madness to let them out of her sight.

She was just debating what to do and wondering whether there were any spells that could stop them when she heard a noise and tensed slightly, not sure whether it was Draco coming back, Harry and Ron finally showing their hand, or more of their tricks and illusions — maybe they were set on a timer rather than triggered, and the latest one had just gone off. If they were on a timer it would explain why she hadn’t yet seen anything other than the ghosts.

A moment later, amidst a flurry of swearing, Hermione knew it was Draco. He had obviously made his way back to the stairs intending to join her when he realised he was cut off by the hags.

For a moment, the two creatures stopped their sniffing and turned, instead, towards Draco, but realising it was a ‘nasty boy’ they didn’t move to attack him, just started grumbling about his smell which was apparently stopping them from detecting the sugar and spice. Hermione bit her lip as she debated what to do.

If she called out to Draco, he would know she was close, and if he had found something to use against them he could tell her. But calling out would alert the hags as to her exact whereabouts, too. They obviously knew she was upstairs as they had caught her scent, but it seemed they didn’t yet realise she was so close to them or they may well try to climb the stairs.

There was nothing for it. She was trapped and couldn’t get to Draco, and she had to hope that the hags couldn’t get to her.

‘Is that you, Draco?’ she asked loudly.

The hags swung back around to face the stairs at the sound of her voice, and the sniffing started in earnest once more.

‘Yes, but I can’t get past these bloody hags,’ Draco said. ‘They’re blocking the way.’

‘Did you find anything?’ Hermione asked, trying to stay calm although she felt anything but.

‘Lockhart mentioned a spell but I don’t know if it will work. I didn’t think spells hurt them. The problem is I didn’t have much time to practice the wand movement. I thought we’d have time to practice before we had to use it. I’ll give it a try, though.’

Hermione heard Draco cast the spell and waited anxiously. A moment later there was a scream of rage and both hags moved away from the bottom of the stairs. Whatever he had done, Draco hadn’t cast the spell correctly, all he had done was enrage them. Although hags didn’t generally attack males, Hermione was sure they would attempt to stop one who was trying to hurt them by using spells on them.

She inched her way down the stairs until she could see the room below. Draco was standing with his wand out, trying to cast spells at both hags as they moved closer to him. In his panic, he had forgotten about the spell from Lockhart’s book and was casting anything he could remember, none of which was working. With a growl, the hags launched themselves at him and as Hermione watched in horror, Draco disappeared beneath them. 

Shock ran through her like a wave and a small voice in her mind screamed that the hags were eating him, or at the very least, seriously hurting him. She could hear Draco’s screams turn from anger to fear and then to pain and Hermione knew she had to act. She couldn’t let him die in front of her.

Taking her courage in her hands she jumped the last few stairs, landing loudly in the hall. The hags immediately stopped their attack on Draco as her far more beguiling aroma reached them.

‘You want sugar and spice?’ she shouted loudly, beckoning the hags towards her with her open arms. ‘Come on then, come and get me.’ 

The hags moved towards her and Hermione could feel herself shaking with terror. She knew normal spells weren’t going to work, Draco had proved that, but she had nothing but her wand to defend herself with.

‘_Avis!_’ she said hurriedly, causing a small flock of canaries to appear. She waved her wand again in the direction of the nearest hag. ‘_Opugno!_’

Hermione watched as the birds flew towards the nearest of the two hags and attacked it. It screamed as the birds pecked at it, waving its arms to bat them away. Hermione quickly did the same with the other hag. It wouldn’t hold them but it would give her a few seconds to work out what the hell she was going to do next.

Her heart beat faster and a smile of relief crossed her face when she saw Draco pull himself to his feet. She could see he was bleeding and she didn’t want to consider what had happened to him to cause it, but he seemed to be okay if a little shaky. He waved his wand at the hag closest to him.

‘_Expulso!_’

There was a small explosion and the hag screamed, then fell to the floor. Before it had even landed Draco was waving his wand and shouting the spell a second time at the other hag, who had managed to fight off the birds and was heading for Hermione. The second hag screamed as there was another explosion and it, too, collapsed.

Draco looked exhausted but kept his wand trained on the hags, waiting for any sign of movement. There was nothing.

He waved his wand again as he tiredly said, ‘_Evanesco!_’

The bodies of the two hags disappeared, leaving the hallway empty. He smiled at Hermione for a moment, then sank to his knees, falling forward in a dead faint.

With a cry of panic, Hermione raced across the hallway to Draco and reached down to pull him into her arms. She looked at him worriedly for a moment then, lifting her wand, she Stupefied him. His face was even paler than usual and his skin was waxy and shiny with sweat. There was a bite on his neck that was bleeding profusely and she used her wand to stop it, hurriedly checking for other wounds and sealing those as well.

She tried to pick him up to carry him but he was too heavy, so she used a spell for that, too, using her wand to guide him slowly up the stairs and back towards the bedroom. As she walked Hermione remembered how Sirius had used the same spell on Professor Snape the last time they had been at the Shrieking Shack, but she was taking care that Draco didn’t bump into anything; Sirius hadn’t been that kind.

Hermione gently lowered Draco onto the bed, using her wand first to get rid of as much of the dust as she could. She sat down next to him and placed her hand on his forehead as she looked at his pinched face.

He was as cold as ice.

She checked his wounds once again, taking the time now to clean them before sealing them properly; once she was sure she had got them all she looked at Draco worriedly again. Hermione wasn’t sure how much blood he had lost or whether he was strong enough for her to revive. He probably needed a blood replenishing potion just to be on the safe side, but she couldn’t charm one out of thin air.

Hermione watched him for a moment as she debated what to do. If Draco was as badly hurt as he appeared to be, she had no choice but to take him back to school and to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey could look after him properly. She would lose the bet and no doubt get into serious trouble for being out of school, but at least Draco would be saved. But what if he was okay? Then she would have lost the bet for nothing.

_Since when have you been a Healer, Hermione?_ the little voice in her brain asked. _What do you know about blood injuries?_

Hermione sighed deeply as she continued to stare at Draco. She didn’t want to risk waking him up if he was still badly injured, as that would do him more harm and could kill him, but at the same time, she didn’t want to leave the shack if his wounds were only superficial. She checked again.

There were definitely only half a dozen wounds — two bites and what looked like long scratch marks, probably made by the hags’ fingernails as they tried to grip him. The wounds seemed to be healing and hadn’t started bleeding again, so unless there was an internal injury he should be fine if a little lacking in blood.

Making her decision and keeping her fingers crossed in the hope that she was correct, Hermione waved her wand to end the Stupefying spell. After a few seconds, Draco stirred, groaning miserably. He went to sit up but before he could do so Hermione grabbed him and hugged him tightly.

‘Thank god you’re all right,’ she whispered happily. ‘Do you feel okay? What hurts?’

‘I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,’ Draco replied honestly. ‘And I’m being squeezed to death, but apart from that I’m fine.’

Hermione released him, looking apologetic. ‘Sorry. I Stupefied you so I could get you up here and work on you without you being in pain. I think I got all your wounds, though. And I didn’t mean to squeeze you so hard—’ She broke off, looking embarrassed.

Draco chuckled softly. ‘I don’t mind you squeezing me to death, Hermione. It felt quite good, actually.’

Hermione blushed again.

‘Where do you hurt?’ she asked worriedly.

‘Why, are you going to kiss it better for me?’ Draco retorted cheekily.

‘No, I need to know whether I need to get you back to the Hospital Wing before you bleed to death or whatever,’ Hermione replied tartly.

‘There’s nothing wrong with me,’ Draco said, and he took hold of her hand. ‘Honestly, Hermione, you can calm down. I have no other injuries. You’ve healed the wounds. I’m just feeling a bit out of it because of the Stupefying spell.’

‘But you lost a lot of blood and you were so pale—’

‘That Expulso spell is a difficult one. It took a lot out of me, especially doing it twice in such quick succession,’ Draco explained. ‘I was lucky — you distracted them so quickly that they didn’t manage to do more than graze the skin. It looked far worse than it was and I didn’t really lose that much blood.’ He looked at her slyly for a moment. ‘I do feel a bit cold, though, if you’re feeling up to giving me another of those hugs.’

He moved slightly to give her enough room to join him on the bed.

Hermione was going to protest, but she was still worried about Draco’s health and he had felt cold when he was unconscious. She looked down at the bed. There was no point in trying to put him into it; the bedclothes were moth-eaten and full of holes and wouldn’t give much warmth. She gave a small resigned sigh and lay down next to him, wrapping her arms around him.

Draco sighed contentedly and smiled at her.

It was on his way to the Library that Draco had realised that he seriously fancied Hermione. It had started as worry, panic rising in him that she would either try to tackle the hags alone or, worse, that she wouldn’t take them seriously and they would get her before he could do anything to stop them.

As he raced back to the school as fast as his legs could carry him, visions of the hags standing over her limp body as they ate her kept flashing into his brain, almost paralysing him with terror, but somehow he managed to force them away and keep on moving. He was going to find a way to get rid of the hags and save Hermione. This thought brought on another vision, one in which the grateful Hermione bestowed her thanks upon him.

As Draco scoured the shelves looking for the bloody Lockhart book, his mind ran through a series of images on that theme, despite the little voice in his brain that once or twice tried to point out that Hermione was a Mudblood and not worthy of his desire.

The little voice didn’t stand a chance, though, as Draco remembered the feel of her soft body against his when he had shielded her from the hags, and he knew that she really did smell like sugar and spice, he had picked up on that, too, while they were lying together.

Having found the book he sought and discovered that there was a spell they could use, Draco hurriedly practised the wand work before heading back as rapidly as he could to the Shrieking Shack. As he ran, he remembered what the second ghost had said to him about Hermione being important to him.

He frowned. How could a ghost that was nothing more than an illusion created by the Weasleys know that Hermione was going to turn out to be just that? Draco couldn’t fathom it at the time but he had more important things to think about. He had to find Hermione and teach her the spell so they could get rid of the hags. He just had to hope that Lockhart had got it right.

‘You do smell like sugar and spice, you know,’ he told Hermione quietly as they lay together on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her in return. ‘Do you taste like it, too?’ He pulled her closer and kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Mmmm, yes, you do.’

He kissed her again, this time more passionately. Hermione, taken by surprise and reacting automatically, kissed him back.

‘What are you doing?’ she enquired, sounding shocked, once the kiss ended.

‘Borrowing your energy,’ Draco responded blithely. ‘Kissing is the easiest way to get it.’

‘Is that so?’ Hermione sounded amused.

‘Yes, and I think I need quite a lot to make me feel better,’ Draco told her as he pulled her close again.

After quite a lot more kissing his hands started moving, slowly at first but becoming more forceful and directed as the kissing intensified. Hermione tried to pull away from him.

‘Now what are you doing?’ she asked worriedly.

‘Do you want to know the truth?’ Draco asked, his voice seductive.

Hermione’s voice was a little stiff in response. ‘Of course I do.’

‘Well . . . I think I’m in love with you, and I really want to undress you so I can discover whether you taste completely of sugar and spice. I was thinking of doing extensive research by kissing the whole of your naked body just to be sure.’

‘That’s not funny,’ Hermione said coldly and she moved away, trying to get off the bed. Draco was too quick and stopped her, grabbing her arms and pulling her back down.

‘I’m not trying to be funny, Hermione,’ he said sincerely. ‘You being in danger made me realise how awful I would feel if you were gone, and that was when I realised how much I fancy you. Let’s face it, we’re well matched intellectually and magically so we’d make a great couple. And you obviously like me, too.’

Hermione frowned and shook her head. ‘I don’t fancy you, Draco. It’s ridiculous. We’ve always hated each other, you know we have. The kissing thing is an aberration.’

‘But that’s the thing,’ Draco said musingly. ‘We’ve always fought, ever since we first met, but I think it’s because we were both trying to repress our desire for each other, trying to pretend there wasn’t anything between us. If we’d just gone with it things could have been very different.’

Hermione shook her head again, looking and sounding annoyed now. ‘There isn’t anything between us, Draco. And all the fighting was because of you being a bigoted Pureblood and your stupid ideas, or have you forgotten that I’m Muggle-born?’

‘I haven’t forgotten, but I don’t much care any longer,’ Draco admitted quietly. He reached out to stroke Hermione’s cheek. ‘You have no idea how terrified I was that I was going to lose you, that I wouldn’t get back in time to save you from the hags. It almost paralysed me, but I knew I would do absolutely anything and it helped me to get back to you in time.’ He gave a small, bitter chuckle. ‘And then I nearly cocked it up anyway, but fortunately, you care about me too, and so you saved me.’

Hermione looked at him in surprise. ‘That wasn’t because . . . .’ She trailed off as the voice in her mind reminded her of what the ghosts had said about Draco being her true love. It couldn’t be true . . . surely it couldn’t. There was too much bad stuff between them for there to be love. She had saved him because it was the right thing to do, not because she was in love with him.

‘If you hated me as much as you say you do you would have let the hags kill me. You wouldn’t have put yourself in danger to stop them,’ Draco pointed out.

‘That’s not true,’ Hermione retorted, shaking her head. ‘I’d never let anyone die if I could help them. I’m not that sort of person. Whoever it was, I would have saved them — don’t think yourself something special.’

Draco looked a little disappointed for a moment but he soon rallied. ‘You like kissing me, though.’

Hermione opened her mouth to refute the statement but closed it again. Unfortunately, Draco was right, she had enjoyed the kisses they had shared — a little too much, if anything, which was why she had let her guard down far more than she should have done.

‘Can I kiss you again?’ Draco asked, his voice soft as he moved towards her, rubbing his nose against hers for a moment. ‘I enjoyed it, too . . . and we still have a few hours to kill until you can leave the shack, so we might as well do something productive.’ He captured her lips with his.

‘What if Ron and Harry are around?’ Hermione asked worriedly once the latest batch of kisses finished. She had somehow ended up lying in Draco’s arms again.

He shrugged, looking supremely unconcerned. ‘What if they are?’ He studied Hermione’s face for a moment, then added a little tersely, ‘You’re not going out with either of them, are you?’

Hermione gave a small shake of her head. ‘No. But Ron and I—’

Draco cut her off with another kiss, not wanting to hear about anything to do with Weasley and a possible relationship with Hermione.

‘You told me they weren’t supposed to be here or you’d win the bet automatically,’ he reminded her sometime later when they came up for air and she voiced her concern once again. ‘So you haven’t got anything to worry about.’

‘Except getting caught like this,’ Hermione mumbled worriedly.

‘As I said, nothing to worry about,’ Draco said soothingly, and he kissed her again.

* * *

Harry and Ron crept slowly through the Shrieking Shack, taking the time to peer into each room they passed. So far there was no sign of Hermione, but as she hadn’t returned to the school they assumed she still had to be here somewhere. She was doing well, they grudgingly had to admit. There was only another hour until sunrise and she would have won the bet. It was obvious that whatever Fred and George had organised had so far failed to scare her sufficiently, although there was still time.

‘So what did Fred and George tell you about what they planned?’ Harry asked for about the fiftieth time that night.

Ron gave a long, bad-tempered sigh. ‘I told you, they wouldn’t tell me specifically. I don’t think they trusted me not to warn Hermione. They just said to make sure we kept away until just before the end to give it a chance to work, so she didn’t catch us and win automatically. There’s supposed to be some grand finale thing if she manages to stick it out all night, but I’ve no idea what.

‘Fred said they couldn’t come because they were already booked up with something else but Lee was going to do it for them, so he must be around here somewhere, too. We need to track him down and find out how it’s been going.’

‘It seems awfully quiet, though,’ Harry said doubtfully. ‘Knowing Fred and George, I would have thought there would be ghosts and stuff all over the place, but we haven’t come across anything yet except for dust and cobwebs.’

Ron shrugged. ‘I expect the effect dissipates after a while, and it has been hours. I wonder if Hermione’s all right or if she’s cowering somewhere, scared out of her wits.’ He had a sudden thought and asked, ‘What if they’ve scared her so much that she’s too terrified to leave? That would be a real bummer — if she ended up winning because we’d scared her too much.’

‘There’s something down there,’ Harry said, pointing to a room down the end of one of the corridors. ‘Shall we go and see what it is?’

‘Might as well, as we haven’t found any sign of Hermione or Lee yet,’ Ron replied.

The two boys walked towards the light they could see coming from a room ahead, their wands held out ahead of them. As they reached the door they stared in astonishment. A sparkling vortex of bright golden light was whirling around the room, sucking in everything that wasn’t securely fastened down.

As it grew its power surged, pulling in broken furniture, peeling wallpaper, and even the cobwebs from the room Harry and Ron were standing in. They watched in fascination, holding onto the doorframe to stop the grip of the vortex that was trying to pull them in, too.

‘Wow!’ Harry said softly, smiling as he watched several balls of multicoloured light erupt from the vortex and whiz silently around the room, casting a disco glow as they moved.

‘It’s great, but what is it?’ Ron asked. He was smiling, too, his eyes glued on the vortex with its pulsating golden light. ‘I mean, it’s not exactly scary, is it?’

As he said this, the pull of the vortex increased and the dust in the room ran across the floor towards it. Ron and Harry both gripped the doorframe more tightly; they could feel themselves beginning to lift off the floor.

‘I dunno, getting sucked in would be quite scary,’ Harry said, raising his voice so as to be heard as the suction grew ever harder and the noise of the vortex increased. ‘How the hell are we supposed to get away from it?’

‘It’s just an illusion,’ Ron reminded him, his voice louder as well, trying to combat the sound of the wind. ‘It probably doesn’t matter; letting go isn’t going to do anything bad to us.’

Harry looked dubiously at his friend. While that was probably true, the vortex was extremely realistic-looking and he didn’t much fancy putting Ron’s theory to the test. He was going to stay where he was for the time being and see what happened next. Eventually, the vortex would have to stop, there wasn’t much left to feed it.

He had to admit he was impressed with the twins’ creation. Although he wasn’t scared exactly, the sparkling vortex definitely made him feel uneasy, and the feeling would be much worse if you didn’t know it was just an illusion. It was a clever one, too. It pulled you in, drawn by the bright lights and the pretty colours, and then you found yourself trapped, unable to move without being sucked into the whirling mass.

The vortex was pulsating ominously now, the noise growing louder like a beating heart, and it was changing colour, too, no longer the pretty gold and bright flashes. It was getting darker, the colours now red, purple and black.

It suddenly seemed more menacing and Harry felt his stomach clench involuntarily, a feeling of dread running through him. He glanced at Ron and realised from the look on his face that his friend was feeling exactly the same way as they waited on tenterhooks for what was going to happen next.

The pulsing vortex continued to grow, filling the room with angry red and purple light like a bruise. The throbbing sound was so loud and deep it seemed to seep into Harry’s bones. It was almost painful, although nothing was happening to him physically. He couldn’t begin to explain what he was feeling, but a cold tendril of fear was slowly working its way up his spine, making him shiver as if he had been drenched in cold water.

Harry looked worriedly at the vortex once more even though it was now moving so fast it was hard to look at. An illusion it might be, but there was no way on earth he would consider letting go of the doorframe now, although as soon as he thought of it, he realised his fingers were getting tired. He could feel them slipping as the gusts pulled at him, trying to drag him through the door.

_Would it stop if I let go?_ Ron wondered, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Something was roiling around in his stomach — not fear, exactly, but a sense of dread that he couldn’t quite quantify, and although he knew he was being stupid — it was just an illusion, after all — he couldn’t get his fingers to release their grip on the doorframe. It certainly wasn’t the sort of scare he had expected his brothers to produce, but it was frightening all the same.

And then, abruptly, the sound stopped. The vortex ceased moving, merely pulsating silently and malevolently in the centre of the room once more. Harry and Ron, now able to stand again, looked at each other worriedly, trying to decide whether now was the moment to make a run for it.

They were too late.

There was a rush of sound, a deafening screaming noise that came from the base of the vortex, followed by a cacophony of other noises: wails and moans, shrieks and howls. Both boys let go of the doorframe and clamped their hands over their ears, trying to block out the sound that was threatening to drive them mad, but as they did the vortex exploded.

The blast released hundreds of small black, red and purple balls of light that whizzed around the room, growing as they moved; tortured spectral faces appearing, giving explanation to the noises of terror, as the vortex crumpled in on itself and disappeared into the floor, leaving in its wake a gaping hole that seemed to go down forever.

‘What the hell—’ Ron just about managed to say when the terrifying screeching spectres changed direction and began to speed towards him and Harry.

Without thinking, the two of them ran, screaming, back along the corridor and towards the tunnel, their only concern to escape the ghosts that were chasing them, their hearts beating so hard they thought they would burst.

Harry and Ron ran all the way down the tunnel and back out through the trunk of the Whomping Willow and they didn’t stop running until they had made it all the way up the hill. They stopped by the standing stones, breathing heavily as they tried to get their composure back.

‘What the bloody hell was that?’ Ron asked, his voice wobbly. He was pale and shaking.

‘No idea, but it was terrifying,’ Harry said. He, too, was trembling like a leaf.

‘Hermione deserves to win if she’s had to put up with stuff like that all night,’ Ron said.

‘Do you think she’s all right?’ Harry asked worriedly. ‘We never did find her. What if the twins have scared her to death?’

‘I’m not going back in there while it’s still dark,’ Ron said adamantly. ‘If she doesn’t come back in the morning we’ll take Dean and Seamus with us to find her. Anyway, if Lee’s in there he’ll probably know where she is and get her out if there’s a problem, surely?’

‘Do you think that was the grand finale Fred and George mentioned?’ Harry asked as they wandered slowly back up to the castle. He tried to imagine something that would beat it for sheer exhilaration and terror and failed.

‘I think it had to be, don’t you?’ Ron answered. ‘I don’t know if we set it off early. Maybe that’s why they said we shouldn’t get there until the end.’

‘I’m happy to let Hermione win,’ Harry said. ‘And I’m quite glad we didn’t put her through that particular illusion. Merlin only knows what else she’s already been through tonight.’

‘If it’s anything like that she deserves a bloody medal,’ Ron muttered.

The two boys fell silent as they entered the castle and made their way quickly towards the entrance to Gryffindor Tower and their beds, although both were certain they weren’t going to be able to get much sleep after their ordeal.

* * *

Hermione awoke with a start when she heard screams coming from downstairs. She and Draco had been dozing, still wrapped in each other’s arms. She sat up and looked anxiously at the blond-haired boy, who had also sat up.

‘What’s that?’ She sounded scared.

‘I’ve got no idea, but it came from downstairs.’ Draco climbed off the bed and held out his hand to help Hermione up.

‘You don’t think the hags have come back, do you?’ Hermione asked worriedly.

Draco shook his head. ‘No. They’re dead and vanished. They couldn’t come back even if we wanted them to. It’s probably just another illusion.’

‘But what set it off?’ Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged seeming unconcerned. ‘Perhaps they’re on a timer as well as being triggered by movement,’ he suggested.

Hermione relaxed a little, remembering that she had thought that herself when she had heard Draco coming back from the Library.

‘You’re probably right. Do you think we should go and see what it was?’ She frowned as she remembered the sound. ‘I thought I heard screaming . . . you know, from people . . . not illusions.’

Draco shrugged and chuckled darkly. ‘Perhaps your friends were here after all and they got a bit more than they bargained for.’

‘Harry and Ron?’ Hermione asked, sounding confused. ‘But surely they knew what was going to happen. They set it up, remember?’

Draco suddenly realised that Hermione didn’t have a clue that the twins had been drafted in to help and had been thinking all this time that it was just the idiots trying to scare her. 

‘I have to admit that I am a little disappointed,’ he told her.

‘Why?’ Hermione looked confused.

‘Because I was expecting more of a show. Your friends drafted Weasley’s twin brothers in to help so I was expecting something spectacular, knowing the things they’ve come up with in the past and that amazing shop of theirs. But apart from whatever just happened downstairs, there have only been a couple of ghosts . . . unless you saw something else before I arrived or while I was at the Library?’

Hermione shook her head, frowning as she thought. ‘No, I saw three ghosts but that was all. I have to admit I thought they were the real thing but if Fred and George were involved then they would have been realistic-looking.’

‘Three ghosts. I only saw two. I wonder if they were the same ones,’ Draco mused. ‘One was a young woman in a big wig and the other was much older, in rags or something.’

Hermione nodded. ‘Sounds like they were the same ones. The third was dressed in Elizabethan clothing, with a big ruff collar like Nearly Headless Nick, and she was middle-aged.’ She frowned. ‘It was weird, though. They seemed to know what was happening — about the hags, I mean. The things they told me. . . .’ She broke off before she said too much.

‘I think they were set up so they would seem to make sense,’ Draco said. ‘They react to the things you’re experiencing but in a general way, so when you’re interacting with them, what they say seems to fit with what you’re going through, whether it’s the scenario they were designed for or anything else. If you’re scared you’re not going to query it too hard.’

‘But then why didn’t we come across anything else apart from the hags?’

Draco thought about it for a moment. ‘Actually, it makes sense that there wasn’t anything else. The twins weren’t expecting the hags to stop you from exploring the house further as they didn’t know they were going to break in. Because you weren’t moving around you obviously didn’t trigger any of the other scenarios they had set up. We both triggered different scenarios so it’s quite sophisticated and obviously tailored to whether a male or female triggered it as it offered different advice. The other triggers must still be around somewhere.’

‘Well, they can’t be up here. I’ve been round and round this place a million times and there’s nothing but dust and broken furniture, so they must be downstairs.’ Hermione told him. ‘And if that’s the case, they can’t be on a timer or they would have gone off anyway.’

‘That’s true. So obviously your friends thought they’d sneak in and see if you’d been scared senseless yet and triggered it themselves as they obviously haven’t got a clue what the twins planted either.’ Draco grinned. ‘Serves them right for coming to the Shrieking Shack when you’d told them not to.’

‘They sounded scared, though,’ Hermione said, still anxious.

‘That’s ‘cos they’re a pair of wusses,’ Draco said blithely. He looked around. ‘It doesn’t make sense that the twins didn’t put anything up here, though. You were obviously going to be searching all over the house and they wouldn’t want to leave you with a place to hide out all night.’

‘I saw the three ghosts up here. In the room down the corridor. I had just finished looking around when I noticed a light, so I went to see what it was. There was nothing there, but when I turned round to leave the ghosts were standing in front of me blocking the door,’ Hermione said.

‘Hmmm.’ Draco thought for a moment. ‘I saw them downstairs. Perhaps once you’ve triggered the right scenario downstairs it would prime other scenarios upstairs. That seems the most likely explanation.’

Hermione thought for a moment about what could be waiting for her downstairs. If the twins were involved there would be some scary things still waiting to be triggered as they probably intended to build it up as the night went on.

If she and Draco found them it would prove once and for all that the ghosts weren’t real and their comments could safely be ignored, which she was having trouble doing in light of Draco’s confession and all those rather wonderful kisses they had recently shared.

At least Draco was with her, so she didn’t have to deal with it alone, and if it was Harry and Ron who had screamed then they wouldn’t be in the house to catch her with Draco and make her forfeit the victory for not spending the night alone.

Hermione looked at him. ‘Should we go and look for them?’

Draco considered the suggestion for a moment. ‘We might as well. We’ve got another hour or so to kill, so we might as well entertain ourselves looking for scare traps. It would be a shame for all the twins’ hard work to go to waste.’

He took hold of her hand and led her from the bedroom, their wands out and raised as they went. Hermione realised she felt a little less anxious with Draco holding onto her. They descended the stairs, stopping in the hall for a moment.

‘Let’s do this methodically. We’ll go room to room from this end of the shack until we get to the tunnel. If we haven’t triggered anything by then we’ll work our way back here. I don’t think there’s any point in going back upstairs unless we’ve triggered something,’ Draco told her.

Hermione nodded her agreement. ‘What happens if we don’t trigger anything?’ She was thinking of the ghosts again.

‘Well . . . I suppose then either something’s gone wrong with the set-up and the twins didn’t stay to make sure it worked properly, or they didn’t actually bother to do anything at all and the ghosts we saw were as real as the hags.’

‘That’s not likely, though, is it?’ Hermione asked worriedly.

Draco shrugged. ‘I can’t see why the Weasleys wouldn’t have set anything up. They had it well planned with your friends, as far as I could overhear. Maybe the hags did something. They definitely weren’t part of anyone’s plans.’

The two of them moved from room to room, searching each one carefully, looking for anything that might set off a trigger. But nothing happened. As they got closer to the tunnel Draco noticed a room that seemed somewhat cleaner than all the others, but there was nothing in it apart from a broken chair.

‘I wonder if this was the room where the scenario went off?’ he mused as they looked around. The room didn’t contain a speck of dust or even a single cobweb. ‘Maybe the explosion got rid of the dust. It definitely sounded like an explosion.’

‘With screaming,’ Hermione interjected.

‘I still think that was Potter and Weasley,’ Draco told her.

He confirmed it a few minutes later when he noticed two sets of footprints in the dust on the corridor floor, obviously running, heading towards the tunnel.

‘Told you,’ he said smugly.

They made it all the way to the tunnel without encountering anything and were just making their way back towards the stairs, following an opposite route in case they needed to visit rooms in a certain order to trigger the traps when Draco spotted sunlight coming through a chink in a boarded-up window in their current room. He looked at his watch.

‘It’s half-past seven and getting light out there. You can finally leave.’ He smiled at Hermione. ‘I’ve got no idea what happened to the Weasleys’ traps, though. They must have got stuffed up somehow. Perhaps it _was_ the hags.’ He chuckled as he thought about them. ‘Mind you, they were more than enough excitement for one night.’

The two of them walked down the corridor, Hermione thinking about the ghosts again. It seemed strange that there had been no other appearances except for whatever had happened to Harry and Ron, but surely that didn’t mean the ghosts had been real.

But whatever it meant, she knew she would have to talk to Draco about what had happened between them and that was going to be difficult and probably embarrassing, especially as she didn’t have a clue about what would happen next.

She stopped just before the tunnel and looked back into the shack one final time.

‘Don’t want to leave?’ Draco asked, sounding amused.

‘It’s not that. It just seems a bit weird,’ Hermione countered. ‘I can’t believe we spent all night here.’

She bit her lip nervously, wondering whether she could just pretend nothing had happened between them. Surely once they got back to the school things would return to normal. But she was soon disabused of this notion when Draco wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug as his lips found hers for another kiss.

Once it was over they looked at each other, not saying anything for what seemed like an eternity.

Eventually, Draco said quietly, ‘So . . . what are we going to do now?’

Hermione looked at him awkwardly. ‘Look . . . I like you, Draco, I really do . . . but Ron and I—’

‘You told me you weren’t a couple,’ Draco said accusingly.

‘We’re not . . . exactly . . . but there’s something . . . I can’t quite explain it. I’m sorry.’ Hermione looked downcast.

‘But I really do think I’m in love with you,’ Draco told her earnestly. ‘Please give me a chance to prove it to you.’ He saw the look on her face and rapidly added, ‘I don’t mean sexually, although you know I would love to make love to you, given the opportunity. Be my girlfriend, Hermione, and I’ll show you that I mean it.’

Hermione stroked his face gently as she looked into his pale grey eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Draco,’ she said quietly. ‘There’s been too much bad stuff between us for one night to put it right. Your emotions were just heightened because of what we went through. A few days back to normal and you’ll hate me just as much as you did before.’ Draco was about to protest when she added almost in a whisper, ‘And I like Ron.’

Draco felt his heart wrench at those last words, knowing he had lost to his red-haired nemesis. He leant forward and gave Hermione a brief and chaste kiss on the lips before pulling away.

‘I don’t think I am going to change, unfortunately, it’s too late for me, but I don’t want you to be unhappy so I’ll leave you alone,’ he said magnanimously. ‘Congratulations on winning the bet, Hermione.’

Hermione surveyed him appraisingly, her heart beating faster at his words. ‘Thanks to you, Draco. I would never have survived the night without you.’

They continued to stare at each other for several seconds.

Draco was the one to break eye contact as he said briskly, ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely bloody starving. Shall we go and get some breakfast?’

Hermione nodded. ‘Good idea, but you’ll have to go ahead of me just in case Harry and Ron are around anywhere. I’m supposed to have spent the night here alone, remember?’

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. ‘I’ll see you later, then.’

Hermione watched as Draco walked down the tunnel towards the Whomping Willow, her heart fluttering as she followed his progress. She was definitely confused about her feelings towards the blond-haired Slytherin boy now.

She had always hated him, certain in the knowledge that he felt the same way about her, but now she didn’t know how to feel. There was still that old resentment that had built up for so many years, bubbling away inside; she couldn’t just let that go whatever had happened between them. But there was definitely attraction there, too. Draco was right about that, whatever she had told him.

It would have been so easy to go further than the kisses, to take things to the next level, but Hermione was certain that would have been a mistake. Just because those stupid ghosts had told her Draco was her true love didn’t mean it was true. A few days of normality, with her spending all her time with Harry and Ron and Draco spending his with Crabbe and Goyle, would no doubt prove that to be the case.

She really had enjoyed the kisses, though. 

Hermione turned back to look at the interior of the Shrieking Shack, just as dusty and unwelcoming as it had been when she arrived the night before. Maybe she had been wrong about there being nothing there to scare her but she had still managed to win the bet. Watching Harry and Ron struggle with their homework for the next two months was going to be worth every moment, both good and bad.

She turned back to the tunnel, and taking a deep breath she began to walk, slowly making her way back to the castle.

* * *

‘I just don’t understand it,’ Ron hissed.

He had just joined Harry, hidden away in a corner where they could talk quietly.

‘Well, what did they say?’ Harry asked.

‘That it was nothing to do with them,’ Ron said. He looked rather scared. ‘The original note said they apologised for letting us down, but Lee was ill and they couldn’t find anyone else to set up the illusions. They said they knew it would be frustrating for us, especially as it meant Hermione would win without even a single scare, but there was nothing they could do about it at such short notice.’

‘But what about the . . . the vortex?’ Harry asked quietly.

Ron shrugged. ‘They didn’t know anything about it. They were adamant that they had put nothing in the Shrieking Shack. They didn’t even have a chance to go anywhere near Hogsmeade. They were doing the illusions for a big party in Truro. They got there yesterday morning and only got back to Diagon Alley an hour ago. George said it sounded like we were really lucky to get away.’

‘You mean that thing was real?’ Harry said in horror. He stared at Ron for a moment. ‘What about Hermione?’ he asked, suddenly panicking. ‘If that thing was in there, what else was there? We never saw any sign of her and she was there all alone. What if something happened to her?’

Ron went pale. ‘Do you think we ought to go and look for her?’

‘We said we would,’ Harry reminded him. ‘We said we’d take Dean and Seamus with us.’

‘Yeah . . . we should, I suppose,’ Ron said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself to move.

Just then the portrait hole door opened and Hermione walked in. She looked around the common room and spotting Harry and Ron she gave them a wave as she walked towards them. The two boys looked extremely relieved at her appearance.

‘I see you came to visit me in the Shrieking Shack last night.’

‘What makes you think that?’ Ron asked stiffly.

‘I saw two sets of footprints leading back into the tunnel, so I knew it had to be you two sneaking away. You’d probably have got away with it if it wasn’t for the explosion. What did you blow up? And did you scream? I thought I heard you.’

Harry waved his hand dismissively. ‘I dunno what that was.’ He glanced at Ron to make sure he wasn’t going to say something else. ‘It was in a room down the hall. We weren’t expecting it, so it scared the crap out of us.’

Ron gave a small chuckle. ‘It made us scream, but then we felt a bit stupid so we legged it.’

‘And because you remembered you weren’t supposed to be there,’ Hermione said amusedly. ‘I win automatically, remember. Although it doesn’t matter, I spent all night there anyway.’

‘Did you have a good night?’ Ron asked interestedly. He and Harry were watching her closely.

Hermione shrugged. She had already decided not to mention the hags as she had no logical way of explaining how she had managed to defeat them and she didn’t want her friends knowing that Draco had been there. Even if she managed to convince them that she hadn’t known he would be there and he hadn’t stayed all night, they would still have insisted on the bet being nullified despite them breaking it themselves — she would have gone through that whole night of terror for nothing.

She ignored the voice in her mind that was reminding her about the kisses. _That wasn’t nothing_, it was saying.

‘It was okay. A bit boring, though. I thought you were going to try to scare me, but apart from those three ghosts I didn’t see anything all night.’

‘What ghosts?’ Ron asked.

Hermione looked at him sharply. ‘You didn’t put the ghosts in there?’

She was about to mention the twins and their illusions but then she remembered that she wouldn’t have known about them if Draco hadn’t told her. A sliver of ice ran up her spine at the realisation that the ghosts had been real after all.

Hermione clamped down on the little voice that was now trying to draw her attention to what the ghosts had told her. She had no interest in hearing it, not after she had sent Draco away and told him she fancied Ron.

Harry and Ron both shook their heads.

‘We didn’t do anything,’ Harry said.

‘We were going to,’ Ron admitted. ‘We asked Fred and George to help us. They arranged all sorts of things, even a big spectacular finale piece, but Lee was supposed to come and set it up and he went down with the flu so it never happened.’

‘I don’t think we should go to the Shrieking Shack any more,’ Harry said quietly, remembrance of the vortex making him go pale. The realisation of what they had barely managed to escape from made him understand how stupid they had been, especially for such a silly bet.

‘So where were you, then?’ Ron asked suspiciously. ‘We didn’t see any sign of you.’

‘I was asleep upstairs,’ Hermione replied. ‘In the bedroom Sirius took you to back in third year. You know, the one with the big four-poster bed. It was rather dusty and the bedclothes were all moth-eaten but I cleaned it up as best I could, and eventually I dropped off. I was knackered. The explosion woke me up, but by the time I went to investigate you were long gone.’

‘You fell asleep?’ Ron said incredulously. ‘How the hell did you manage that?’

‘Because, as I told you before the bet, there was nothing in there. Well . . . nothing in there but the ghosts, and they weren’t scary. Once they’d gone there was nothing else, and after investigating the house to see if you’d set any traps there wasn’t really much else for me to do, especially as I didn’t take a book or some homework with me.’

‘Well, you win. Congratulations,’ Harry said, eager now to not think about the Shrieking Shack or the vortex any longer.

‘Yeah, congratulations, Hermione,’ Ron said, although his tone was a little hollow.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile rather smugly. She knew he was thinking of all the note-taking and homework he was going to have to do on his own for the next two months and it gave her a warm little glow that her lazy friend was finally going to have to do some work for once.


	3. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So it turns out that this story wasn’t a standalone story after all. While trying to work out what to do for the 2019 Christmas story, I realised that the theme fitted perfectly with the one I had already begun telling at Halloween. So here we go – Christmas has arrived at Hogwarts. Thanks go as always to my wonderful friend and beta, Mamacita, and to you dear readers for taking a chance on my story. I really appreciate you taking the time to read it. I hope you enjoy the festive season in whichever way best suits your needs. Dx

‘I can’t believe you’re really going to dress up for this party,’ Harry said, sounding a mixture of surprised and disappointed. He had been expecting Ron to refuse point blank, which would have given him the excuse he needed to do so, too. But now, unless he could talk his friend out of it, it looked like he was going to have to put on a stupid costume after all. ‘So what are you going to wear, anyway?’

‘I know it’s not overly original but I’m going as Santa Claus. I overheard Hermione telling Ginny that she’s dressing as Mrs Santa so we’ll make the perfect couple.’ Ron grinned as he mused, ‘I wonder if she’ll be a sexy Santa’s wife?’

Harry laughed. ‘Dream on, mate. Knowing Hermione, she’s more likely to be dressed as a little old lady with grey hair and an apron.’

Ron grimaced. ‘I really need to have a word with my sister to make sure she sets Hermione straight and stops her wearing something rubbish.’

‘What’s Ginny wearing?’ Harry asked interestedly, then idly wondering what his own outfit should be if he ended up having to dress up. He didn’t think another Santa was a good idea. There would be a roomful of them, he was certain.

Ron shrugged. ‘An elf, I think.’ Sourly, he added, ‘You know what Ginny’s like, it’s bound to be something revealing.’

‘I hope so,’ Harry said without thinking.

Ron punched him on the arm. ‘Oi, that’s my little sister you’re talking about.’

‘And my girlfriend,’ Harry reminded him.

‘Fair enough,’ Ron said gruffly. ‘I just wish she could get Hermione to be a bit more adventurous.’

‘You never know, mate, miracles do happen sometimes,’ Harry said with a grin, ‘and if a miracle is going to happen, it’s going to happen at Christmas.’

Ron tried to look optimistic. ‘Perhaps the Santa idea is a stupid one. I bet loads of people will dress as that. Maybe I should try to get Ginny to talk Hermione into dressing as something else.’

‘Like what?’ Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. ‘No idea, just something less . . . less old.’

‘Are you sure you want to dress up?’ Harry asked, his voice gently wheedling. ‘I wouldn’t have thought fancy dress was your sort of thing.’

‘It isn’t but we haven’t got a choice, have we? I thought everyone had to dress up,’ Ron answered miserably.

Harry shook his head vigorously. ‘No, it’s optional, and I bet half the school won’t bother.’ Having planted the seed, he added, ‘Actually, I’m not at all sure that I’m going to bother dressing up.’

Ron stared at him morosely. ‘I don’t have a choice. Hermione told me I would be dressing up. Surely Ginny told you the same thing, didn’t she? Anyway, if I don’t dress up Hermione will get upset with me and that will mean a rotten Christmas.

‘She’s already been really touchy about me trying to welch on that stupid bet, although I don’t know why because it’s only a bit of homework. But I don’t want to risk annoying her any further otherwise she might not help after Christmas, either.’ He sighed glumly. ‘I thought at least a Santa outfit would be less embarrassing than a pirate or something as I can hide behind the beard and no one will necessarily know it’s me.’ He looked pleadingly at his best friend. ‘Please don’t make me dress up on my own, Harry. That would be a real nightmare.’

Harry looked at him for a moment and then sighed. ‘All right, I’ll dress up too, although Merlin only knows what I’m going to wear.’ He stopped for a moment, then said, ‘I could go as Merlin. That’s a good idea, isn’t it?’

Ron shrugged. ‘No worse than Santa, I suppose.’

‘Ah, but I bet Hermione will really appreciate that you made the effort to dress as a couple,’ Harry pointed out. ‘You know she likes that sort of thing. It’ll definitely put you in her good books and you never know where things might go from there.’ He gave Ron a knowing wink.

Cheered a little by this thought, Ron said, ‘I’m definitely going to have a word with Ginny about Hermione’s outfit, though.’

‘Well, at least if it turns out to be that awful no one will realise it’s you behind that big beard,’ Harry pointed out soothingly. 

Ron sighed again as he admitted, ‘I’m dreading this already.’

* * *

Draco leant nonchalantly against a pillar, watching as crowds of students flowed into and out of the Great Hall. All of them had made the effort to dress up, although after the Headmaster’s gentle reminder at breakfast two days earlier that it was a fancy dress party it was unlikely any of the students would have chosen to attend as themselves unless they were really stupid. Even the teachers had taken part, but some were more enthusiastic about it than others.

The Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, led the way as a pirate, resplendent in purple velvet and cream lace with long, curly black hair topped with a matching tricorn hat edged with gold and a hook for a hand. Professor Sprout appeared to be dressed as a sunflower, which considering her size was no mean feat. Professor Sinistra had decided to dress as a fully decorated Christmas tree with a silver-clad fairy on the top of her head, and tiny Professor Flitwick had gone to town as one of Santa’s elves, dressed in the traditional green and red. In stark contrast, Professor McGonagall had merely worn a cat mask to hide her face along with a furry cloak, and Professor Snape wore only his usual midnight-black robes and his deepest scowl.

Draco looked down at his own outfit. It wasn’t what he would have chosen to wear if it had been up to him, especially as so many others had gone with the same idea, but Weasley had decided to play Santa so he had no choice but to do the same. They wore identical outfits as he had followed the redhead and his friend to the shop to make sure they got the same thing. No one at the party would be able to tell them apart, which was the whole idea.

He had been trying to get some time alone with Hermione ever since the night they spent together at Halloween, but she had steadfastly refused to allow him anywhere near her and hadn’t even given him so much as one kiss. She hadn’t been nasty about it, but every time Draco managed to get her alone she mentioned Weasley, so he had been forced to back off and release her before she got upset.

Dressed as he was in this ludicrous outfit, Hermione would have no idea that Draco wasn’t her so-called boyfriend, and if he could get her alone, even for a little while, hopefully, he could get some pleasure out of the evening too. At the very least he would get a Christmas kiss, but if she thought he was the Weasel she might be willing to go somewhere more private and then, maybe, he would finally get to taste her in the way he was so desperate to.

The truth was that Hermione’s refusal to allow him to get more intimate with her made it seem all that much more desirable and Draco was willing to do whatever was needed in order to make it happen between them. He already knew from the kisses they had shared at the Shrieking Shack that she tasted good — like sugar and spice, as the old rhyme said — which was why he was so desperate to become intimate with the rest of her body. He was sure that given the opportunity he could pleasure her far more effectively than the Weasel could manage. He just had to get her alone long enough to convince her.

Like Weasley, Draco was impatiently waiting for Hermione to arrive so he could see how she was dressed. Privately, he agreed with Potter’s assessment that she would choose to go with the old-lady look rather than reveal to the school just how damn sexy she was. However, unlike his redheaded rival, Draco didn’t really care if she wore something old and frumpy. Clothes were just a covering. She would still be the same gorgeous girl underneath, and covered up she would be less likely to attract admiring stares from other boys. The last thing Draco needed was more competition.

He scanned the Entrance Hall again to make sure he hadn’t missed her, but Draco was certain she would be with Ginny Weasley when she appeared from Gryffindor Tower and he was in exactly the right place to see them as they made their grand entrance.

A few minutes later he got his wish, and as his heart beat faster Draco realised Weasley had got his wish, too. Hermione wasn’t, as they had expected, dressed as a frumpy old woman. Instead, she had chosen to dress in a way guaranteed to have half the school desperate to get to know her better. Draco watched in appreciative astonishment as she and Ginny slowly descended the stairs and walked towards Weasley and Potter.

Hermione was wearing an extremely short, figure-hugging strapless dress in scarlet velvet edged with some white furry material. Her shapely legs were encased in fishnet tights — or possibly stockings, he couldn’t tell from this distance — and she perched on scarlet high-heeled shoes that made her legs seem even longer.

Her hair had been styled in a similar fashion to the Yule Ball, all sleek and pinned back, and she was wearing a tiny Santa hat on her head. A red glitter mask covered her eyes to give that air of mystique, and wrapped around her waist was a white lace-edged maid’s apron — which was the bit that signified she was Santa’s wife, Draco supposed.

He watched with unabashed desire and growing disappointment as she finally reached Weasley, kissing him on the cheek as the redhead enfolded her in his arms, his pleasure at her outfit obvious to anyone who was watching.

Draco glanced at Ginny while he waited for Hermione and the Weasel to stop hugging as it was beginning to annoy him. The red-haired girl looked pretty, too; her dress was similar to Hermione’s but it was green and white, and the hat she wore, with pointed ears to match, indicated that she was an elf.

She looked good, but not as good as Hermione. Obviously, Draco knew he was somewhat biased as he was completely in love with the Muggle-born, but he had seen plenty of others around the room giving Hermione appreciative looks too, so knew he wasn’t alone in his desire.

Ron gallantly offered Hermione his arm as Harry did the same with Ginny and the four of them made their way into the Great Hall to join the party. Draco hung back, still leaning against the pillar. He needed a few minutes to calm himself and swallow his annoyance.

Hermione was dressed as the sexiest creature in the world yet he knew she was doing it for the Weasel, not for him. But it was all going to be fine. It wouldn’t be too long before lovely Hermione would be in his arms once more. He just had to be patient and ready to put his plan into action as soon as the opportunity arose.

Draco’s plan hinged on two things. Firstly, no one, particularly Hermione, realising that he was dressed in the same outfit as Weasley; and secondly, his ability to replace Weasley without Hermione discovering what he had done. The first wasn’t too difficult as he hadn’t told anyone what he was wearing to the party so he could blend without fear of being discovered, in the short term at least.

In order to keep his secret, he had another completely different outfit stashed away that he would change into once he had finished his romantic liaison with Hermione. Draco was well aware that whilst he might desire to spend all night with her the most he could realistically hope to get away with would be a few stolen kisses, and with any luck, a little not-so-innocent fumbling.

The second was a far more difficult proposition as there were several obvious differences between him and Weasley and even dressed in a Santa suit with a big beard it was going to be difficult being alone with Hermione without her spotting the difference. Although Draco desperately wanted to be himself during their time alone together, he knew this was too much of a risk, so he had got hold of some Polyjuice Potion.

It wasn’t ideal by any means as he had no desire to look like the Weasel and it felt a bit like cheating. But needs must and all that, and being in the Gryffindor boy’s body for an hour would at least give him the opportunity to understand what he was up against.

All he had to do was wait for an opportune moment, get rid of Weasley and take the potion and then he could, after another few dances, guide Hermione somewhere private where the rest of his plan would be put into action.

Draco stayed in the shadows to ensure he wasn’t seen, standing on the edge of groups so it wasn’t obvious that he was alone, waiting for that perfect moment when Hermione and the Weasel would stop dancing and he could move in.

It had taken quite a long time as it seemed the group really wanted to dance but finally, after almost an hour, when Draco was just beginning to lose heart, Potter and Weasley broke away from the girls and headed toward the area where drinks were being served.

Draco wandered after them, not certain he would be able to do anything but unwilling to miss a possible opportunity. His spirits lifted immensely when he saw Weasley clap Potter on the back and peel away. The dark-haired boy headed towards the drinks table while the redhead made his way out of the room, presumably heading for the boys’ toilets.

The blond Slytherin speeded up, knowing his moment had finally come and he couldn’t afford to waste a second. He followed Weasley into the toilet, choosing the urinal next to him. Ron looked at him and, obviously not knowing who he was talking to, chuckled, indicating Draco’s costume.

‘Looks like we all had the same idea,’ Ron told him.

Draco shrugged. Disguising his voice by making it deeper he replied, ‘Easy and obvious option, wasn’t it?’ He tugged on his beard. ‘Good for hiding behind so no one can see you making a fool of yourself,’ he added.

Ron nodded. ‘That’s what I thought. I hate bloody fancy dress parties.’

They both moved to the sink to wash their hands and Ron stared into the mirror above the basin.

‘We’re identical,’ he pointed out as the same faces stared back at them from the mirror. ‘You must have got your costume at the same place as me.’

‘I’ll bet most of us did,’ Draco said. ‘Hard not to when we only had Hogsmeade to choose from.’

He put his hand in his pocket and clutched his wand, waiting for the only other person in the bathroom, also dressed as Santa, to leave. The boy was already heading for the door. Draco watched the door close behind him, then turned towards Weasley.

‘_Stupefy!’ _he said coldly as he pulled the wand from his pocket.

Taken completely unaware, Ron dropped to the floor. Draco looked around him for a moment, then used his wand to lock the door to the washroom. He extracted a small bottle from inside his costume and pulled out the stopper, placing it on the sink surround, then bent down and looked at Ron.

‘Sorry, Weasel, but it’s every man for himself in the fight for the lovely Hermione,’ he told the unconscious boy as he pulled back the wig and hat and tugged a couple of red hairs from Ron’s head.

He turned back to the sink and added them to the Polyjuice Potion, putting his thumb over the mouth of the bottle while he shook it. He lifted the bottle in a salute to the boy on the floor then drained it in one, grimacing as the viscous liquid slid down his throat, causing him to gag. He put the now empty bottle back in his pocket and stared at the mirror as he felt himself changing.

It was really weird because he could feel himself filling out and getting taller, but apart from the sudden growth spurt, the massive Santa outfit hid the rest. He peered more closely in the mirror. He did have Weasley’s blue eyes now, though.

Draco turned back to the boy on the floor and used his wand to move him into one of the cubicles so he wouldn’t be found and locked the door, then he unsealed the door to the bathroom and left, trying to get used to his new body as he walked back towards the Great Hall.

He had to get Hermione and get out of there as soon as possible. Weasley wouldn’t wake up for several hours if left to sleep off the spell but Draco only had an hour before the Polyjuice potion wore off and he needed to be away from Hermione and ready to change into his other costume when that happened.

Draco’s heart beat like a drum as he made his way through the crowds looking for Hermione. Eventually, he spotted her, sitting in a chair away from the dance floor looking a little uncomfortable, turning the glass containing her drink around in her hands as she waited for Weasley’s return.

Potter and Ginny were leaning in close to each other as they talked and laughed and it was clear Hermione was feeling a bit of a gooseberry. Draco stopped in front of her and stared at the whispering couple for a moment before holding his hand out to Hermione.

‘Come and dance with me, Mrs Santa,’ he said seductively, pulling her up from the chair.

Hermione nodded, relieved to get away from the lovebirds, and Draco led her out onto the dance floor. He grasped her lightly around the waist as they began to dance, silently cautioning himself to be careful. As much as he wanted to get intimate with Hermione he needed to get her somewhere a little more private first. He didn’t want to do anything to scare her off, so he had to play it casually.

The music had changed and he was able to pull her closer, but it seemed Hermione felt somewhat uncomfortable with this.

‘I don’t really want to dance anymore, Ron,’ she told him as she began to pull away from him.

Draco wrapped his arm more tightly around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

‘That’s lucky because neither do I,’ he confided in her ear. ‘Come with me.’

‘Where are we going?’ Hermione asked as he took her hand and guided her towards the door.

‘Somewhere we can be alone for a little while. I want to spend some time admiring that wonderful outfit of yours without the rest of the school doing it as well.’

* * *

Hermione smiled and nodded as Draco led her out of the Great Hall and down one of the corridors searching for a likely looking room. Her heart was racing at the thought that she and Ron were finally, after all these years, going to get further than just being friends. She had fancied him for such a long time but he had never seemed to see her as anything other than as a friend.

Although deep inside she was certain that he had only gone out with Lavender last year in retaliation for her brief relationship with Viktor back in the fourth year, Hermione still wasn’t sure Ron knew how much he had hurt her by doing it. She had been hoping that his jealousy would spur him into asking her out but instead he had tried to make her jealous in return and then . . . nothing.

But all that was in the past. Tonight she and Ron were finally going to get together, and hopefully, by the end of the evening, they would be a couple.

For a moment, her mind turned to Draco Malfoy, unable even now to stop herself from thinking about the blond-haired Slytherin boy. He had been her worst enemy for their entire time at school, but since they had spent the night together at the Shrieking Shack last Halloween everything had changed.

Draco had told her he was in love with her that night, had averred it the following morning before they left, and had pulled her into alcoves all over the castle to re-affirm his interest on several occasions since.

Hermione felt a warm tingle of pleasure as she thought about him, but tried to push it away. It was true that she had enjoyed the kisses they had shared and it was definitely a confidence boost that he was now so interested in her, especially as he had always detested her so thoroughly in the past. But in reality she was still extremely unnerved by what the ghosts she had encountered during her stay in the Shrieking Shack had told her, and it had stopped her from getting any closer to Draco.

Before she and Draco had gone their separate ways after their night in the Shrieking Shack she had even gone as far as to tell him she liked Ron, giving the impression that there was more to their relationship than was actually the case, and every time he had tried to talk to her since she had mentioned Ron’s name, which was always the key to Draco releasing her.

Hermione did want to kiss Draco again — she most definitely did — but there was just no way on earth it was going to happen. Ron was the one she had fancied for so long, not Draco, and Ron was her true love, regardless of what a bunch of stupid ghosts had told her. She and Draco just weren’t a sensible match and there was no point in pursuing something that would only make her unhappy in the long run.

To be fair, if Hermione was being honest, Draco was partly the reason she had worn the fancy dress outfit she was wearing tonight. When the party had first been announced she had been unable to decide what to wear. She had discussed it excitedly with Ginny, even though they were both aware that the excitement did not extend to their male friends and they were going to have trouble getting Harry and Ron to agree to dress up with them unless it was compulsory.

Ginny was convinced that if Hermione could get Ron to agree then Harry would follow suit, even if only out of guilt, and she was also secretly sure that Ron _would_ dress up if Hermione asked because he fancied her. Harry and Ginny had no idea why Ron wouldn’t ask Hermione out, but Ginny figured this could be a way for them to finally get one step closer.

With it being Christmas and with the idea of couples firmly lodged in their minds, Hermione had decided on being Mrs Santa, hoping it would give her hopeless would-be boyfriend a hint. Ron had picked up on the hint but was still averse to dressing up until he’d had the temerity to ask Hermione to help him with his homework, brushing aside the bet she had won at Halloween.

Hermione, annoyed at his gall, especially after what she had been through with the hags in order to win the bet, had used his cheek to coerce him, and by extension Harry, into dressing up. She had intended to dress as a traditional Mrs Claus but Ginny suggested that rather than cover up she should give Ron a treat.

She had given Ginny’s suggestion some serious consideration and realised that it might go some way towards getting the relationship she wanted with him, and when she spotted the outfit in the shop in Hogsmeade she had known immediately that it was what she was looking for although she wasn’t sure she would be brave enough to actually wear it to the party.

Hermione was certain that Ron would love it, and as she looked at herself in the mirror she thought of Draco and knew that he, too, would get a thrill from seeing her dressed this way; which had been enough to take the outfit from an exciting thought to a must-have. She was extremely pleased when Ginny found an almost identical outfit in green and looked stunning in it, her beautiful red hair complementing the colour, as this would take some of the heat off her.

And so, earlier that evening Hermione had nervously walked down the stairs and into the party, unable to display the easy confidence Ginny possessed but knowing that she looked good. Even though Ron was hidden behind a big beard and wig she could feel the excitement radiating off him in waves at her choice of outfit, and her heart soared as her own excitement rose at the thought of what might happen between them.

She looked around as they made their way into the Great Hall, wondering if she might spot Draco, but she didn’t see him. For a moment, her mood was flattened a little that he had missed her big entrance and she wondered where he had got to, but just as quickly she silently chided herself for caring.

What did it matter where he was? It wasn’t as if she was going to leave Ron for him and it was Ron she was supposed to be with, not Draco. It was odd him not being at the party, though. Normally the self-styled Prince of Slytherin would be doing his very best to steal the show, yet she found herself looking around for him while she danced with her friends and Draco was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Draco had now found an empty room — a safe enough distance away from the party that it was unlikely they would be interrupted, but not too far for him to be able to get back to the men’s toilets before the change back into his own body took place.

He was slowly getting used to the taller figure and was actually quite impressed, despite himself, at how muscular Weasley was. Now he was inhabiting the boy’s body he could sort of understand why Hermione was attracted to him, but Draco was still certain he had more to offer her than the Gryffindor boy. It was unfortunate that tonight wasn’t going to be the night when he could reveal that to her, but at least he could make a start.

Once they were safely inside the room, Draco used his wand to lock and ward the door, ensuring that no one could disturb them without warning. Once again, he cautioned himself with regard to Hermione. He needed to make sure he didn’t go too fast and scare her off, but he had been waiting so long to kiss her again that he was having trouble sticking to his own plan.

Now that she was here with him Draco just wanted to grab her and kiss her, wanted to run his hands over that gorgeous body that was so perfectly showcased in that tight dress, and he wanted to find out whether those were stockings or tights she was wearing. He was so desperate to taste the sugar and spice it was making him rash.

Hermione gasped with delight as he pulled her to him, wrapping his long Weasley arms around her. It was a bit odd kissing her with Weasley’s mouth and for a moment he panicked, wondering whether she would notice the difference. He had no idea how Weasley normally kissed. The one time Draco had seen him in the school corridors puckering up with Lavender Brown he’d had to walk away in disgust.

But it seemed Hermione was just pleased to be kissing him and didn’t appear in any way perturbed that the kisses weren’t what she was expecting. Lost in the moment, Draco’s mouth claimed hers possessively, enjoying the taste of her, the sugar and spice overwhelming his senses as they had the first time he kissed her.

And now his hands were moving, slowly and tentatively to begin with, but as the kissing continued and captured Hermione’s attention they become more fervent and searching. A couple of times she tried to pull away but Draco pulled her back against him, using his mouth to calm her ruffled feathers. This continued for a while, but Draco wanted more and he knew just how to get it.

One of his hands moved down and stroked Hermione’s thigh through her dress, trying to ascertain from what he was feeling whether she was wearing stockings. He was kissing her throat now, small pecking kisses that had Hermione throwing her head back, enjoying the feeling.

Draco moved his hand further up under the dress where his fingertips connected with bare skin and he gave a sigh of pleasure, stroking her thigh and the top of her stocking before slowly moving his hand again.

Hermione, realising what he was attempting to do, tried to pull away but discovered that she couldn’t move. She glanced up and saw a large clump of mistletoe directly over her head.

‘What are you doing, Ron?’ she asked worriedly.

Although she had been dreaming of this moment for a long time, Hermione hadn’t expected Ron to be quite so forward. The kissing she had expected, once he had made it clear he wanted to be alone with her, but for someone who had taken forever and a day to get as far as giving her a kiss he was certainly making up for lost time and she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready.

Draco smiled at Hermione. ‘I thought we could have a bit of fun before we go back.’

‘Just give me a kiss and free me from the mistletoe. I don’t like being trapped under it,’ Hermione said a little unhappily.

‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to kiss you,’ Draco told her seductively, and he began planting those little whisper-soft kisses on her neck once more.

Hermione tried to move but found she was still stuck. She frowned. Ron was definitely kissing her, even if it wasn’t on the lips, yet she hadn’t been released from the plant’s grip.

‘It’s not going to let you go yet,’ Draco informed her mildly as he watched her squirm. ‘This isn’t normal mistletoe, I got it from the twins.’

He cursed himself for not being able to remember the Weasley twins’ names and hoped it wasn’t enough to make Hermione suspicious.

‘Fred and George gave you this?’ she asked unhappily, not noticing Draco’s sudden anxiety.

Draco nodded, realising he had got away with it. ‘Special mistletoe. The spell is only broken with a proper kiss — you know, a passionate kiss on the lips. None of that pecking lark. Any other sort of kiss is completely ineffective. But it does enable me to kiss you quite a lot without the spell being broken.’

‘Where do you think you’re going to kiss me?’ Hermione asked.

Draco grinned. ‘I’ve got your whole body to cover, Hermione.’

‘But you can’t—’ she began, her voice rising in surprise.

But Draco was already moving lower, his lips brushing the top of her breasts that poked seductively from the dress. Hermione gave a small moan.

‘Please just let me go,’ she begged. ‘We don’t have to stop kissing, but I don’t like being trapped and unable to move.’

Draco chuckled. ‘All in good time, Mrs Santa. Santa has got a special Christmas present for you first.’

He was moving lower, sinking to his knees as his lips worked their way down her right arm.

‘What do you . . . oh!’

Draco gave a small sigh of pleasure as his lips moved from her hand, his own hands now working to slide the short skirt of her dress up her thighs, revealing those deliciously sexy stockings. He leant forward and kissed the tender skin above the stocking band, feeling Hermione tremble as she caught her breath.

‘Ron . . . please . . .’ she whispered.

‘Happy Christmas, Hermione,’ Draco replied, his voice husky with desire.

His hands moved again, causing Hermione to whimper. The sound turned to a longer, lower moan of desire as his mouth followed his fingers.

* * *

Draco glanced at his watch and realised with surprise that his hour was almost up. As much as he really didn’t want to he had to release Hermione and get back to the boys’ toilet before the potion wore off. Now more than ever he wished he had been able to be with Hermione as himself rather than as the Weasel, but he had pleasured her, and very effectively too, thanks to Weasley’s brothers and their wonderful mistletoe.

Hermione was still shaking in his arms, not quite recovered from the latest orgasm he had given her. He hadn’t done badly. In the time they had been together she had come twice, and Draco was more in love with her than he had been before. His hand brushed her cheek tenderly as he gazed into her beautiful brown eyes. There was a stain of colour on her cheeks, an aroused flush from the climax, and he honestly thought Hermione looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

Draco leant forward, his body pressed against Hermione’s, his erection hard against her, almost unbearable now. Tonight had been about giving Hermione pleasure. But although he had gained a great deal of enjoyment from doing that, it had made him even hornier than he had been before they had snuck away together. Now there was no time left to discover whether she would have been amenable to pleasuring him in return.

They had to go . . . and soon.

‘Happy Christmas, Hermione,’ Draco whispered in her ear, feeling her shiver as he did so.

Then he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the mouth, the sweetest and most tender kiss so far, deepening into something far more passionate.

Hermione, now able to move as the spell from the mistletoe broke, wrapped her arms around him in return, savouring the kiss every bit as much as everything else they had shared. It had been unexpected — completely unexpected — but although she had been unsure at first that she wanted Ron to do what he had done to her, she had enjoyed it far more than she would ever have imagined possible.

She could feel his hardness, a reminder that while she had reached climax more than once he hadn’t been so lucky. But before she could reach out to touch him to offer some sort of recompense for what he had given her, Ron ended the kiss and pulled away, leaving her confused as he pulled out his wand and removed the wards on the room.

Hermione moved towards him but he shook his head and taking her hand once more he began to lead her to the door.

‘What about _your_ present?’ she asked, a little disconcerted at the sudden turn of events.

Draco turned back to look at her and smiled. ‘Tonight was about you,’ he said quietly. ‘And it was perfect . . . you’re perfect.’

Hermione stared at him for a moment. ‘You want to watch out, you sound like—’

She broke off, realising Ron wouldn’t thank her for comparing him to Draco Malfoy and she wouldn’t be able to explain what the comment meant. He and Harry had no idea that she and Draco had ever conversed pleasantly with each other, let alone spent several hours on a bed in the Shrieking Shack kissing, and she didn’t want them to find out. What she had done with Draco was a mistake, and it wasn’t fair to Ron to compare him with his Slytherin enemy.

Ron was a much better kisser than she had expected, though. If Hermione was honest she had imagined him to be a bit wet. She remembered, although it still hurt, the times she had seen him kissing Lavender and it had always seemed a bit sloppy. But the kisses tonight had been magnificent. They had been every bit as good as any Draco had given her.

Hermione chided herself again. She really had to stop thinking about Draco. Ron was her boyfriend now, at least she assumed he was even though he hadn’t mentioned it. Surely he wouldn’t have done what he had if they weren’t going to be a couple, would he?

She was still quite surprised at Ron’s actions, though. She hadn’t realised he was so experienced, or so unselfish. Hermione felt so happy it was as if she was walking on air. She had often thought that things might be quite stilted and awkward between her and Ron if they ever actually managed to get it together, yet it had been absolutely perfect, as he had said.

Hermione held on tight to Draco’s hand as they walked back down the corridor leading to the Entrance Hall. She began to lead him towards the Great Hall to re-join Harry and Ginny, but Draco stopped and pulled his hand from hers.

She turned to look at him questioningly. ‘We should get back. Harry and Ginny will probably be wondering where we got to.’

Draco gave her a small smile. ‘I doubt it. If they’re even still in there I don’t think they’ll have noticed we went missing, not the way they were staring at each other.’

He was aware that the final few minutes were rapidly ticking away. If he didn’t leave soon Hermione would see him shrink before her eyes and then everything would be lost.

‘I need to go to the loo. I’ll see you back in the Great Hall shortly,’ he announced.

Hermione gazed at him lovingly and smiled. ‘Don’t be long.’

Draco felt his heart tug with disappointment at the expression on Hermione’s face, knowing it wasn’t for him. Everything he had done with her this evening had only made her desire for Weasley grow.

‘I can’t keep away from you,’ he admitted quietly before hurrying off in the direction of the men’s toilets.

Hermione watched him go, the smile still on her face, then, when he had disappeared from sight, she turned and carried on walking towards the door of the Great Hall, her heart as light as a feather.

* * *

Draco’s mood sank further as he made his way to the toilet where his other costume and the real Weasley were waiting. Being with Hermione had been every bit as wonderful as he had anticipated and he had gone out of his way to give her as much pleasure as he could, unable to hold back as his desire for her flared. But his blasted disguise meant that he had helped his rival to consolidate his place in Hermione’s heart — as if he needed any help in that respect.

He pushed the door forcefully, slamming it open, and almost hit yet another Santa who was heading out of the room but riled as he now was Draco couldn’t bring himself to apologise to the boy. Instead, he grunted as he pushed past him. The unknown Santa swore at him but Draco didn’t care.

As the door closed he used his wand to lock it and then ripped off the wig and beard, ready to get rid of the cheap outfit he had been stuck in for the last few hours. He checked the cubicle he had put Weasley in to make sure the boy hadn’t been found.

The redhead was still on the floor, leaning against the wall as if asleep. Draco fought down the urge to kick him in the head although he dearly wanted to, his long-held hatred for the other boy exacerbated by his frustration that he had inadvertently helped his rival.

He could feel himself changing; the sensation was just as weird as it had been the first time round. Forcing himself to leave Weasley untouched, he left the cubicle and went to retrieve the costume he had hidden in the washroom earlier in the day, happily removing the Santa outfit as his body finally became his own once more.

Draco looked at himself in the mirror as he changed into the new costume, admiring the sumptuous silk and brocade of the expensive and elegant frock coat as he buttoned it. Despite the fact that Hermione was currently enamoured of Weasley, Draco was still glad he didn’t share the Gryffindor boy’s physique. He preferred his own well-toned body, without the Weasel’s lanky height. He pulled on the white powdered wig that completed the costume, pulling at it to make sure it was on correctly.

Once he was certain he was perfectly attired Draco looked in the mirror as he placed a black velvet mask over his eyes. If he said so himself he looked magnificent, and actually, he didn’t look anything like his usual self. He wondered whether anyone would realise who he was; whether Hermione would realise.

Perhaps he should have just spirited her away dressed like this and made love to her as a mysterious stranger. It would definitely have fitted with the character he was playing. But it was too late now. He had made his choice to imitate Weasley and now he would have to live with it.

It was time to go and attempt to woo Hermione publicly; it probably wasn’t going to work but it was worth a shot. If nothing else it would cement in her mind that he wasn’t dressed as Santa, which might come in useful later on should she ever begin to suspect that Weasley hadn’t been the one to trap her under the mistletoe.

Draco didn’t have a problem with Hermione knowing it was him, not now the tryst had been successfully completed and knowing how much she had enjoyed what he had done to her, but knowing that she would probably be quite upset at his duplicity he would prefer it if she found out on his terms, when he wanted her to know, rather than by accident.

He was fairly sure she wouldn’t talk directly to the Weasel about what he had supposedly done to her, which was helpful. He got the impression that Hermione wasn’t hugely experienced sexually and probably found it embarrassing to talk about, especially with a boy, and he remembered her reaction when he went down on her; that agreeably arousing mixture of surprise, pleasure and embarrassment that had made him even more determined to keep going. He couldn’t help but look forward to the day when he would finally get her into bed, certain that it would be the most exquisite experience of his life.

For a moment he imagined what being inside Hermione would feel like, but as nice as the thought was he had to let it go. He was convinced that it would happen eventually. Regardless of what Hermione kept telling him, Draco knew she had feelings for him as well as for Weasley. He just had to keep working on her until she gave in to him and let him take her to bed. Then she would be his forever. He just had to hope that the Weasel didn’t get her there first.

He knew her relationship with Weasley was partly the reason Hermione had turned him down, but he suspected there was something else going on there, too, something to do with her desire for him, and it had something to do with Halloween.

Draco thought again about the ghosts that had spoken to him, that had begged him to save Hermione from death. They had told him that letting her die, as he had intended to do at the time, would be the worst thing he could ever do. He hadn’t believed it until later when he realised he was in love with the beautiful Gryffindor girl and understood that the ghosts had been right.

Hermione had seen the ghosts, too, more of them than he had. Had they told her something about him? Had they said something that had worried or scared her, something that made her reject him despite the obvious attraction between them? He had never considered it before but now he realised it was quite possible that they had spoken to her as they had to him.

He wondered how he could find out what they had said but suspected that asking Hermione outright wouldn’t get the desired result. Whatever the reality, now wasn’t the time to think about it. He needed to go and find Hermione and see if he could convince her to dance with him. But first, unfortunately, he had to wake Weasley.

Draco returned to the cubicle and used a charm to remove the boy’s memory from the moment he came into the bathroom to ensure he didn’t remember being attacked. Then he moved the Gryffindor out of the cubicle, standing him up and leaning him against the row of sinks before ending the Stupefication spell and instead casting a confusion charm which should keep him away from the Great Hall and Hermione for a while longer.

He stepped away from the sink and waited as Weasley came round. The redhead looked a bit dazed for a moment but then began to wash his hands, not taking any notice of Draco. Knowing that he was okay if a bit confused, Draco left him to it, leaving the bathroom before the boy could talk to him.

Draco walked rapidly towards the Great Hall, wanting to get to Hermione before Weasley did. If her boyfriend was there she would never agree to dance with him. He entered the party room looking all around him for Hermione. She wasn’t where she had been sitting the last time he had come to find her and neither were Potter and Ginny. They had obviously disappeared for their own romantic interlude, just as he had predicted.

He scanned the room, hoping that Hermione hadn’t decided to call it a night — although after seeing the look on her face when he left her, he couldn’t believe she would do so without saying goodnight to Weasley first. Draco’s heart began to pound faster as every search came up empty, knowing that he was running out of time. Even with the Confundus charm, it wouldn’t be long before Weasley was back and any chance for getting Hermione to dance would be gone.

But then he spotted her. She was talking to a group of girls, although Draco didn’t recognise any of them with all the fancy dress going on. He moved into the persona of the character he was portraying and glided smoothly across the dance floor to join Hermione and her friends. Once he reached her side he waited for a moment until she acknowledged he was there, then gave her an ostentatiously low, sweeping bow, and held out his hand.

‘Would you like to dance with me?’ he asked, his voice husky and pleasant.

Hermione stared at the mysterious boy for a second, ignoring the giggles and excited whispers his invitation had caused amongst her friends. Her heart was pounding as she realised it must be Draco, dressed in one of the most ornate and probably expensive costumes she had ever seen. It was amazing and he looked nothing like his usual self.

She probably could dance with him without attracting more than the jealous glances some of her friends were already giving her, not knowing who was underneath that wig and mask. It wasn’t as if she would be dancing with Draco Malfoy, after all. She would be dancing with whoever it was he was dressed as. 

Draco waited on tenterhooks as Hermione seemed to weigh up the proposition. Eventually, after what seemed like a lifetime to the hopeful boy although he knew it could only have been seconds, she nodded and took his hand as he led her to the dance floor.

‘You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, Hermione,’ Draco told her sincerely as soon as they were in each other’s arms. 

‘You like the costume, then?’ Hermione asked, amused.

‘Very much,’ Draco admitted. ‘Although I’ll be honest — I think you look lovely whatever you’re wearing.’

Hermione couldn’t help smiling at the compliment and she realised her heart was beating faster. She had no idea why it was important that Draco liked her outfit; he wasn’t her boyfriend and his opinion didn’t count, but strangely she was ridiculously excited that he had finally seen her dressed like this and liked it.

For a moment, she wondered whether Draco had ever been tempted to do what Ron had done to her, but then she pushed the thought away. Maybe he had but she wouldn’t have let him. Ron was her boyfriend, not Draco, she had to remember that.

It didn’t stop her imagining it, though, and as they danced a faint blush of colour crept into Hermione’s cheeks. She was glad Draco couldn’t read her mind otherwise she would have been in serious trouble.

Determined to stop thinking about sex with Draco, Hermione focussed, instead, on his costume.

‘So who are you dressed as?’ she asked him.

Draco smiled at her. ‘Giacomo Casanova,’ he replied smugly.

‘Casanova,’ Hermione repeated. She nodded her head. ‘Appropriate, I guess. Although I’m surprised you know of him.’

‘Of course I know of him. He’s the wizarding world’s most famous lover,’ Draco retorted.

Hermione frowned. ‘I thought Casanova was a Muggle.’

Draco shook his head. ‘How do you think he managed to charm all those women into sleeping with him? He was definitely a wizard and he used his power to bed loads of women . . . not just Muggles, either. Old Casanova would take anyone he could get.’

‘A hero of yours, is he?’ Hermione asked sardonically.

Draco shrugged. ‘He used to be, but these days I find myself a little less interested in sleeping around. There’s only one person I want to make love to, you know that, Hermione. You’re the only one I’m in love with.’

‘I’m surprised you still feel that way,’ Hermione said honestly. ‘It was only a couple of kisses and it has been a while since then.’

Draco shook his head. ‘No, it was always more than that for me. I told you I’m in love with you, not just trying to get in your knickers _and_ I told you that rejecting me wouldn’t make it any less true.’

‘I know, and I’m sorry you feel that way. It doesn’t seem fair somehow.’ Hermione did sound genuinely apologetic.

‘Well, you could just admit you were wrong and run away with me,’ Draco told her with a smile, trying to keep the conversation light-hearted.

Hermione shook her head. ‘You know I won’t do that. I told you before—’

‘Yes, yes, I know, Weasley is the love of your life,’ Draco cut in dismissively. ‘Where is the big lummox, anyway? Has he died of heat exhaustion under all that hair? I expect those Santa suits are baking.’

Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘No, he’s gone to the toilet.’ Her heart beat faster at the thought that Draco had seen her with Ron, so perhaps he had been at the party after all. ‘I didn’t see you at all before you asked me to dance, which is surprising considering the way you’re dressed. Flamboyant doesn’t even begin to cover it.’

‘It _is_ a nice costume, isn’t it? I had it made specially. There wasn’t anything of any real quality in Hogsmeade — not for men, anyway, and there was no way I was going to join the herd and dress as Santa. That big beard and hair wouldn’t suit me at all,’ Draco said smugly. Then, making his voice sound a little hurt, he added, ‘I’m surprised you didn’t spot me, though. I went out of my way for you to notice me when you came down the stairs, but I suppose you only had eyes for that idiot boyfriend of yours.’ 

‘Ron’s not an idiot,’ Hermione chided, but inside her heart was fluttering. Draco had seen her grand entrance after all, but somehow she had missed him. Then again, why did she care? 

‘No? Well, I’ll have to take your word for that. Personally, I think he’s a prize idiot for still being at the party. If I was him I’d definitely have relocated us somewhere more private by now. You look so sexy in that costume and I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.’ Draco noticed that Hermione had turned a faint shade of pink at his words. He ignored this and continued, ‘I suppose I can’t convince you to go somewhere more private with me, can I? I still want to discover whether you taste like sugar and spice all over, and it’s so rare to see you in so little clothing, so it wouldn’t take much to get you naked. By the way, are those stockings or tights you’re wearing?’

As Draco spoke, the hour she had just spent under the mistletoe drifted back into Hermione’s mind, and once again it was Draco there with her instead of Ron. It shouldn’t really have come as a surprise to her that Draco wanted to make love to her, he had told her the same thing when they were together at Halloween and the thought had given her a tingle of pleasure then, although she had pushed him away knowing it could never happen.

He was so incredibly handsome, especially in that wonderful costume — and she had to give him kudos for making the effort to dress up so spectacularly rather than trying to hide behind a Santa outfit like so many of the other boys had — but there were still too many years of nastiness and rancour to overcome for them to ever be a couple . . . and she was Ron’s girlfriend . . . well, sort of. True, he still hadn’t actually asked her out, but surely that was a given considering what had happened earlier.

Giving a small sigh of exasperation Hermione said, ‘I told you before that I like you, Draco, but there’s never going to be anything between us and I’m not going anywhere with you, with or without clothes.’

‘I’m not going to stop working on you, you know,’ Draco said, although he sounded resigned. ‘One day you’ll realise you’re meant to be with me, not Weasley. Can I at least have a kiss? It is Christmas, and kissing is traditional.’

‘Here?’ Hermione asked, looking around her in alarm.

She wondered what people would say if they saw her kissing Draco. It was true that he was dressed in a costume that completely hid his true identity but she would still be seen kissing him. It would be pretty hard for her to pretend that she hadn’t known who he was, and everyone knew there were years of enmity between them, which would make them question why they were kissing.

Plus Ron had to be around somewhere. He wouldn’t be too happy if he came back and found her snogging Draco, even if he didn’t realise who it was. For a moment Hermione imagined him squaring up to Draco and pulling off the wig and mask, revealing the Slytherin for who he was. She shuddered at the thought. As much as she would have quite liked to kiss him, it couldn’t happen.

Draco picked up on her unease and felt the slight shudder. He had no idea what Hermione was envisaging but he knew she was going to say no. Disappointment surged through him and for a moment he thought about kissing her anyway, not waiting for her answer. But that would be disrespectful and wouldn’t help him gain any ground in the battle for her heart. Where was the bloody mistletoe when you needed it?

The idea made him perk up and he hurriedly glanced around. There had to be some here somewhere — there always was in places where so many people were gathered together, however much the teachers might try to stop it. A fancy dress party where so many people had the chance to further up-until-then unrequited desires was always going to attract great clumps of the parasitic plant. Sure enough, he soon spotted some not far from where they were dancing, so slowly and deliberately he moved Hermione in that direction, not making it obvious what he was doing.

‘I’m sorry, Draco, but I can’t kiss you,’ Hermione told him, her voice quiet. ‘There are too many people who would see us, and Ron must be around somewhere . . . .’

‘But you do want to kiss me, don’t you?’ Draco asked as her voice tailed off somewhat sadly. He stared intently at her, his pale grey eyes capturing her dark brown ones.

Hermione gazed back at him for a moment, then gave a sad smile and admitted, ‘I do. To be honest, I love your kisses. But it doesn’t change anything so it’s pointless. I’m not willing to upset Ron or cause a scene just because of a kiss. I’m sorry.’

‘Would mistletoe help?’ Draco asked softly in her ear and pointed to the plant which was now directly above their heads. ‘We can’t move unless we kiss.’

Hermione felt a moment of panic at the mention of mistletoe as she thought of the twins’ super-powerful variety that Ron had unleashed on her earlier. Had Draco got hold of some of that? She glanced around and realised that there were clumps of mistletoe dotted all over the room. It was only luck that she hadn’t become trapped under it before. Of course, this mistletoe would be the usual stuff that appeared by magic whenever there was a gathering of people. She was certain the teachers would never allow the students to bring in their own, especially if it had come from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

The idea that it gave her the perfect excuse to kiss Draco was momentarily exhilarating, but Hermione knew that a kiss on the cheek or a chaste peck on the lips would be sufficient to free them so she still wouldn’t be able to abandon herself to Draco’s wonderful kisses without causing a scandal.

She shook her head. ‘A peck will be sufficient to free us from that . . . see?’

Hermione leant forward and planted a small, soft kiss on Draco’s lips. Before he could do or say anything she began to pull away from him.

‘I need to go and find Ron.’

Draco pulled her back towards him, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist to stop her from moving.

‘I understand the difficulty of kissing me here,’ he said gently. ‘But I really want a Christmas kiss from you, my love. Let’s go somewhere where we can have that kiss.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you, Draco. I told you I’m with Ron.’

‘I’m not talking about anything else,’ Draco said quickly. ‘I’m talking about one kiss . . . one kiss that will make my entire Christmas. Please, Hermione, just give me that kiss and I promise I’ll let you go running back to Weasley afterwards. That’s all I’m asking of you, just one kiss.’

Hermione bit her bottom lip as she considered. She knew she should say no, should stop once and for all this stupid infatuation Draco had with her, but she wanted to kiss him. Her body ached for it despite her attempts to stifle the feeling. And one kiss wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be cheating on Ron, not really, especially as there wasn’t yet a properly defined relationship between them. It was just one kiss — a Christmas present for them both.

‘All right, but I can’t be long. I don’t want Ron to start wondering where I am and come looking for me,’ Hermione warned.

Draco’s heart soared at Hermione’s agreement. Holding her hand, he led her off the dance floor and through the crowds out of the door of the Great Hall. He knew he didn’t have long. Hermione was granting him this concession because she couldn’t quite manage to damp down her desire for him, but she wouldn’t let him take advantage and if he took too long finding somewhere for them to kiss she might still abandon him in favour of returning to the Weasel.

He pulled her into the first empty alcove he could find and pushed her up against the wall, his body pressed against hers as his mouth connected with her mouth for another of those wonderful kisses he enjoyed so much with her.

‘Thank you,’ Draco said sincerely once it was over. His hand was cupping her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. ‘That was exactly what I wanted. I really am in love with you, Hermione. I know you don’t want to hear it but it’s true.’

And then he took a chance and kissed her again.

After the third kiss, Hermione pushed him away from her and Draco reluctantly allowed her to do it, stepping back to release her from the wall and his arms. He moved out of the alcove, waiting while Hermione joined him. She looked as if she was about to leave, just as he had promised she could, but he didn’t want her to go without saying anything more.

‘I don’t know why you don’t think we should be together, Hermione, but don’t let something stupid come between us, please. I really do love you and I will do anything you want to prove that to you.’

Hermione looked at him sadly. ‘You and I don’t make sense as a couple. Ron and I do. I’m sorry, Draco, but I really don’t want to discuss it further. I’m not going to change my mind.’

Not wanting their time together to end on a sour note, Draco tried to lighten things up.

‘I think one day you’re going to look back and regret that you turned down Casanova, greatest of the wizard lovers,’ he said cheekily. He gave a long, loud theatrical sigh so she knew he was joking. ‘Ah well, I suppose there’s no point in hanging around if you’re just going to be boring with your boyfriend. I shall go and find someone who wants to spend the evening with me.’

Hermione almost retorted that _she_ wanted to spend the evening with him, but she spotted the trap and managed to avoid it.

‘I’m sure there are plenty of girls out there who would be delighted to get a kiss off the famed Casanova. At least half the girls I was talking to when you asked me to dance, for starters,’ she pointed out. Then, wickedly, she asked, ‘Anyway, where’s Pansy Parkinson tonight? I thought you and she had a thing going.’

Draco grimaced. ‘There’s nothing going on with me and Pansy. I know she fancies me but she’s really not my type. I prefer someone a little more . . . .’ He broke off for a moment and stared blatantly at Hermione, then said, ‘interesting and intelligent. Sexy helps, too.’

Hermione chuckled. ‘Poor Pansy and she always has such nice things to say about you.’

‘Well, of course she does — I’m perfect,’ Draco retorted.

Hermione snorted. ‘I don’t think so, Draco. No one is perfect.’

‘You are,’ he replied instantly. He saw Hermione flush. ‘Sorry, but I really think you are.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I’m definitely not perfect. I’m not Mary Poppins.’

‘Who?’ Draco asked confusedly.

Hermione sighed. ‘She’s a fictional character in a series of Muggle children’s stories. She’s described as being “practically perfect in every way”.’

‘She is you, then,’ Draco said with a smile.

Hermione shook her head again. ‘I’m not perfect, Draco, and you know that really. You spent enough years pointing out all my faults, real or imagined. You’re just blinded by desire at the moment. Let the scales fall from your eyes and you’ll see the real me again.’

Draco grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly. ‘I can see the real you, Hermione, and you’re perfect to me.’

Hermione chuckled. ‘I’m obviously not going to be able to convince you of this, but I’m not perfect.’

‘No, you’re right. You’re not perfect otherwise you would have agreed to come and get naked with me,’ Draco said with a grin. ‘But you’re close enough. Maybe I should start calling you Mary.’

‘That would be an interesting nickname to try to explain,’ Hermione said.

‘Well, maybe just when we’re alone together,’ Draco countered.

‘But we’re not going to be alone together, Draco. We’ve been through this. I’m with Ron.’

‘You never know, we might be . . . in the future,’ Draco said.

‘Maybe,’ Hermione conceded, not wanting to get into an argument about it. ‘Now, I really have to go. Ron will be wondering where I’ve got to.’

Draco squeezed her hand for a moment, then released it.

‘Thank you for the kisses. They were wonderful . . . as always.’

Hermione smiled as she gazed at him a little shyly.

‘Yes, they were,’ she admitted. ‘And now I’m gone.’

‘You never told me whether they were stockings or tights,’ Draco said before she could walk away.

Hermione winked at him. ‘That’s my secret. You can think whatever you want.’

‘I’ll go with stockings, then,’ he said.

‘Goodbye, Draco,’ Hermione said with a wave, refusing to say whether he was right or not.

Draco watched her walk across the Entrance Hall, enjoying the way her bottom swayed as she walked. He was disappointed that Hermione was returning to the Weasel, but whatever she said he knew he hadn’t lost her for good. The way she clung to him while they were kissing and her difficulty in leaving him proved that. She might be Weasley’s girlfriend at the moment but she wasn’t going to stay his girlfriend. Draco was determined things would change eventually.

‘Happy Christmas, my love,’ he said quietly as Hermione disappeared through the door of the Great Hall.

He stood there for a moment debating what to do. It seemed a shame to waste such a great costume, and Hermione was right — there were plenty of girls at the party who would be happy to be with Casanova, even if she wasn’t one of them. He might as well go and give them the pleasure of his company.

Grinning, he followed the route of the girl he was in love with back into the party. 


	4. Valentine's Day

Hermione was feeling a little disconcerted. Her first thought on waking had been that it was Valentine’s Day — which wasn’t that surprising. She was, after all, a perfectly normal hormonal teenage girl and the day dedicated to love was always going to be on her mind as it would be for every girl in the school, whether they wanted to admit it or not.

But it was the thought that had immediately followed on from that one that had her flustered.

Any sane person would have thought about their boyfriend in relation to a Valentine but Hermione’s mind had, instead, immediately conjured the smirking face of Draco Malfoy. For a moment she felt a mixture of guilt and embarrassment at this faux pas, her cheeks colouring as if the other occupants of the room could tell what she was thinking.

Hermione pushed the image of the blond Slytherin’s grinning face from her mind and hurriedly tried to replace it with Ron’s as she got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.

What she couldn’t understand was why she had thought of Draco in the first place. Ron was her boyfriend, although she knew Draco had once wanted to attain that position for himself. But since the kisses they had shared at Christmas, which she told herself she had only given him because he had made her feel guilty about not giving him a proper kiss under the mistletoe, he had been relatively quiet and it had been several weeks since he had last pulled her into an alcove to try to convince her that she should be with him rather than Ron.

Hermione thought he had finally got the hint that she wasn’t going to dump her boyfriend for him, especially as it had only been a few weeks since their relationship had really got going — although as far as Draco knew it had been much longer. So why he rather than Ron had popped into her mind was a complete mystery.

While she brushed her teeth, Hermione tried to silence the voice inside her mind that was trying to point out that Draco was her true love; the ghosts that had inhabited the Shrieking Shack at Halloween had told her that, and she was just being stubborn by refusing to listen to them.

Hermione had to admit there was a definite attraction there. Draco was handsome as hell, and once she had got to know him without his cruel jibes he was an interesting and intelligent person with whom she found it easy to spend time. But after all those years of enmity between them, she was unable to believe the ghosts’ predictions, however real they had appeared at the time.

While spending the night in the Shrieking Shack, she and Draco had kissed — rather a lot, actually — and it had been extremely pleasant. But there was no way it was ever going any further, regardless of what Draco wanted, and she knew that the Slytherin boy wanted a lot more than just a kiss.

Hermione wasn’t sure she was ready for the sort of relationship Draco wanted with her. She wasn’t the most sexually experienced person in the school by a long way, and the thought of becoming as intimate as Draco wanted, whether with him or Ron, was somewhat scary.

When she and Ron had first got together he had been surprisingly forward too, although strangely he had never since repeated his actions of that night. Hermione thought it was probably because the last time she had been the recipient of his affections without giving anything in return, and although he had said at the time it was all about her, she knew that in reality Ron was more selfish than that and was probably sulking because she hadn’t immediately dragged him back to pleasure him in the way he had done her.

She hadn’t spoken to Ron about it because she was too embarrassed and because she wasn’t quite sure how to broach the subject. Although Hermione had enjoyed being with him immensely and thought he had felt the same, especially in light of what he had done, Ron’s behaviour towards her afterwards had left something to be desired.

For a few days after the party, it was almost as if he was pretending it hadn’t happened and that they weren’t a couple. He hadn’t actively pushed her away but he certainly showed no sign of the interest he had during their brief liaison at the party and spent a lot of time afterwards telling Harry and Hermione that he had got so incredibly drunk that night that he couldn’t remember anything he had done.

This was a similar tactic to the one he had employed once he was release from the Hospital Wing after being accidentally poisoned during a love potion accident caused by Romilda Vane the year before, Hermione remembered, and it made her heart sink because it meant he was going to brush her off again as he had last time. But then they had kissed a bit over the holidays, although admittedly that was usually when there was mistletoe around, and for a moment Hermione’s heart had raced, thinking that maybe things would work out between them after all.

But the kisses didn’t seem to be the same either; the magnificent assurance Ron had shown on the night of the party nowhere in evidence as he clumsily fumbled with her. Hermione had sort of come to terms with it now and knew that in Ron she had a steady and reliable boyfriend rather than the passionate and exciting one she had thought he was going to be.

She still wasn’t sure why there had been such a change in him, but she suspected that being hidden behind a costume had boosted his self-confidence considerably, something he always seemed to have a problem with. The thought had also crossed her mind that he might have also done something — used a spell or taken a potion of some description — to give himself the confidence to take that step of making her his girlfriend and that somehow it had got out of hand.

This was another reason she didn’t want to bring the subject up, in case it made him feel guilty, either about what he had done to her or about the steps he had taken to make it happen, so she had accepted that a relationship with Ron would consist mainly of being the friend she had always been with a bit of kissing thrown in when he was in the mood. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic relationship in the world, though, so maybe this was the reason she was thinking about Draco.

Hermione knew instinctively that a relationship with Draco would contain all those things that her relationship with Ron didn’t, but a boring love life wasn’t a reason to throw all sense to the wind and plunge headlong into what could only turn out to be a train wreck of a relationship, especially when he wanted so much more from her than she was prepared to give.

As Hermione finished dressing she wondered whether Ron had got her a Valentine’s card or gift. She knew he wasn’t the sort of boy to remember birthdays and stuff without a reminder from Harry, so it was possible he had forgotten, but she hoped he had got her something. A Valentine would mean that he was serious about her, even if he couldn’t tell her to her face. It would show the world that they were a couple, which was all she had ever really wanted.

As she headed towards Ginny’s dormitory to meet her friend before going down to breakfast she thought once again about Draco. Would he give her a Valentine? For a moment, her heart raced at the thought, but she made herself calm down. Even if he did it would make no difference. Ron was her boyfriend and would stay her boyfriend. Draco was just too much trouble.

* * *

‘What did you get for Hermione?’ Harry asked Ron as they made their way down to the common room.

He was hoping that the card and box of chocolates he had bought for Ginny would be a sufficient Valentine’s gift. He was worried about being seen as a bit of a cheapskate and was wondering whether he should have invited her out to tea at Madam Puddifoot’s as well, although he didn’t think Ginny was that sort of girl. She would probably enjoy a game of Quidditch more. He cursed himself silently for not thinking of it earlier; he could have got them tickets to a game. She would definitely prefer that to chocolates.

‘Got her? Why would I get Hermione anything?’ Ron enquired, sounding confused.

Harry stared at him, dumbfounded. ‘It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it, you idiot. Tell me you’ve at least got her a card even if you haven’t got her a present.’

Ron looked suddenly anxious. ‘Is it? I hadn’t realised. Do you think she’ll be expecting a card from me?’

Harry laughed in disbelief. ‘I should think so, seeing as you’ve been a couple since Christmas. I think a card will be the least she’ll be expecting.’

‘We’re a couple?’ Ron said, sounding stunned. ‘When did that happen?’

‘Well, you’ve been snogging her ever since the Christmas party. I thought that would give you a bit of a clue,’ Harry said.

Ron shrugged. ‘I just thought she liked kissing me, so I wasn’t going to complain. I mean, she’s never said anything about being my girlfriend.’

‘She probably didn’t think she needed to say anything. All that kissing and stuff would be enough to make her think she was.’ Harry looked at his best friend suspiciously. ‘Don’t you think she is your girlfriend, then?’

‘Oh, yeah . . . of course,’ Ron said quickly, swallowing as he pictured himself and Hermione together, his stomach swirling with both pleasure and anxiety at the thought.

‘I don’t understand what the problem is, Ron. You’ve fancied her for years,’ Harry pointed out.

‘I know. It just seems a bit odd, me and Hermione being boyfriend and girlfriend — not weird or anything, but it just seems a bit strange to put a label on it,’ Ron said.

‘Well, label or not, I suggest you find her a present of some description in the next few minutes otherwise you might find there’s no relationship to worry about,’ Harry warned.

‘What have you got for Ginny, then?’ Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. ‘I got her a card and some chocolates. It’s not much, but at least I’m doing better than you.’

‘Can I buy the chocolates off you, Harry?’ Ron asked desperately.

Harry shook his head. ‘Nope. I’ve already given them to one of the first year girls to deliver to Ginny’s dormitory. Sorry.’

Ron looked distraught. ‘What the hell am I going to do? Why didn’t you say anything before?’

‘I didn’t realise you didn’t remember or that you didn’t realise you were supposed to get anything,’ Harry admitted. ‘I only asked you now because I was worried the chocolates weren’t a good enough present.’

‘Oh gods, Hermione’s going to hate me, isn’t she?’ Ron said unhappily.

‘Well . . . I don’t know about _hate_ you, but she’s definitely not going to be happy,’ Harry said truthfully. ‘It’s different with girls, isn’t it? They take these things more seriously. I mean, it’ll be a bit embarrassing for her if the other girls find out that her boyfriend didn’t send her a Valentine. I know Hermione will try to pretend she doesn’t care, but if someone like Pansy Parkinson and those bitchy friends of hers find out they’ll make her life a misery, and I expect that will trickle down to us eventually.’ 

‘What am I going to do?’ Ron asked desperately. ‘Harry, tell me, what am I going to do? There’s no way I can get a card, there isn’t time. But I haven’t got anything else.’

Harry looked thoughtful as he tried to think of a way to help Ron.

‘I know,’ Ron announced a couple of minutes later, sounding like he had suddenly had a brainwave. He looked more hopeful. ‘I could give her some jewellery, couldn’t I?’

Harry frowned. ‘Jewellery? Yeah, I’m sure she’d be pleased . . . hang on a minute, what jewellery? You’re not talking about that necklace that Lavender gave you last year, are you?’

Ron looked a little guilty. ‘I just thought—’

‘Ron, you can’t do that,’ Harry said, sounding shocked. ‘Apart from anything else it was so hideous that Hermione’s definitely going to remember where you got it from . . . everyone will remember. Trying to recycle an old girlfriend’s Christmas present by giving it to the current one for a Valentine’s gift is definitely a no-no.’

‘So what am I supposed to do, then?’ Ron sounded dejected once more.

Harry sighed. ‘I dunno. If you had a card you could have put an IOU in there . . . for a romantic tea at Madam Puddifoot’s or something.’

‘Madam Puddifoot’s. I don’t want to go to that place. It sounds awful from what you told me.’ Ron grimaced.

‘I bet Hermione would like it, though,’ Harry said.

‘You and Ginny could come, too,’ Ron said hopefully.

Harry shrugged. ‘We could, but we’d be sitting at a different table. That’s the whole point of Madam Puddifoot’s. It’s a place to spend some quality time _alone_ with your girlfriend . . . with tea and cake to help it along.’

‘So you think I should ask Hermione to go there?’ Ron asked.

‘Not without a card.’ Harry scratched his cheek as he thought. ‘There must be something you can give her to tide her over. Oh . . . I know.

‘Dobby!’

Harry and Ron waited tensely to see if the house-elf would appear. A moment later there was a pop and Dobby was standing in front of them, looking extremely pleased to have been called.

‘Harry Potter called for Dobby,’ he said eagerly.

‘I did,’ Harry said. ‘We need your help, Dobby. Ron forgot to get Hermione anything for Valentine’s Day and she’ll be really upset if she finds out. Is there anything you can get for him that would help us out?’

Dobby looked serious for a moment as he thought about it, then smiled.

‘Dobby can help Harry Potter and his friend Wheezy,’ he announced happily. ‘Herminie will not be unhappy.’

‘Do you think I should hide from Hermione for the time being? If she can’t find me she can’t get annoyed with me,’ Ron pointed out.

‘Good thinking. You might want to wait for Dobby somewhere else. How about in the kitchen?’ Harry said sensibly. ‘Dobby, meet Ron in the kitchen, where you can give him the present for Hermione.’

Dobby nodded his agreement then clicked his fingers and disappeared with a pop. Ron stared at Harry, his stomach churning but no longer in a good way.

‘I’ll wait here for the girls and then go down to breakfast with them. We’ll meet you in there, Ron. Then you can give Hermione whatever present Dobby gets for you.’ Harry chuckled. ‘You’ll just have to hope it’s not socks, mate.’

‘Oh gods, he wouldn’t do that to me, would he?’ Ron groaned looking stricken.

Harry shrugged. ‘He might. You know Dobby thinks that socks are the best gift in the world. He’s another Dumbledore.’

‘I’m dead!’ Ron announced miserably. There was the sound of chatter coming from the girls’ stairway. ‘Right, I’d better go before Hermione comes down and sees me.’

He raced for the portrait hole as if his life depended on it, hoping desperately that Dobby would come up with at least a semi-decent present for Hermione, otherwise he was certain his life wasn’t going to be worth living.

* * *

Draco watched Hermione carefully as she entered the Great Hall for breakfast. It was clear that she wasn’t her usual happy self and he wondered what had happened to upset her. Weasley wasn’t with them, only Potter and his girlfriend, and for a moment his heart skipped a beat, hoping that Hermione and Weasley had argued and with any luck maybe even split up.

That was probably too good to be true, he thought ruefully, especially on Valentine’s Day, but he could always live in hope. He continued to stare at her, watching as she poured a cup of tea and buttered a slice of toast before reaching for the Marmite. He was so busy watching the love of his life eat her breakfast that he didn’t hear the question Blaise asked him.

‘Are you listening to me?’ Blaise asked, sounding annoyed. He elbowed his friend in the ribs.

Draco coughed, then turned to look at Blaise.

‘What did you do that for?’

‘You were ignoring me. What’s so interesting over on the Gryffindor table?’ Blaise asked.

Draco shrugged. ‘Nothing much, just wondering why Granger’s looking so miserable.’

‘Probably the same reason Pansy’s on the warpath,’ Blaise said. ‘She didn’t get a Valentine from you.’

Draco’s heart pounded as he stared at his best friend, wondering whether he had guessed his secret. He made his face look confused.

‘Granger’s upset because I didn’t send her a Valentine?’

‘Not Granger, Pansy,’ Blaise said. ‘I don’t suppose _anyone_ would have sent Granger one. That’s why she’s pissed off, I expect.’

‘Her boyfriend would have done, surely?’ Draco said without thinking.

‘Boyfriend? You mean there’s someone out there who’s stupid enough to want to go out with her?’ Blaise replied contemptuously. ‘Which idiot is that?’

‘Weasley,’ Draco told him tartly. ‘I thought it was obvious.’

‘Oh, are they a couple? I thought they were just mates. They’re not exactly romantic, are they, not like that other bird he went out with. They were snogging all over the place. It was quite sickening, actually, so thank Merlin they’re not.’ Blaise looked away from the Gryffindor table towards Draco. ‘So what are you going to do about Pansy?’

Draco frowned. ‘What do you mean, what am I going to do about Pansy?’

‘You didn’t get her a Valentine card,’ Blaise hissed.

‘So?’

‘You always get her a Valentine card. She’s furious with you because she thinks it makes her a laughingstock — the girl whose boyfriend didn’t get her anything.’

‘But I’m not her boyfriend,’ Draco pointed out.

‘Try telling her that,’ Blaise said. ‘You’ve always got her a card in the past, why didn’t you do it this year? You know it keeps the peace.’

Draco glanced at Hermione again and sighed loudly. ‘Perhaps I’m fed up with pretending, Blaise. I don’t like her in that way, I never have . . . actually, I don’t much like her at all and I don’t see why I should be the one to make her feel better about herself. It’s time she stopped pretending I’m her boyfriend and got on with her life. Maybe she’ll actually find herself a real boyfriend then.’

‘What’s changed with you?’ Blaise asked. Now he was also looking at Hermione because Draco was. ‘You’ve never been bothered about Pansy in the past. Are you worried someone is going to think you really are her boyfriend? Is there someone you fancy?’

Before Draco could answer, Hermione’s expression changed from disappointment and hurt to one of pleasure and incredulity. Draco followed her gaze, a massive scowl crossing his own face as he saw Weasley walking through the room carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers. He stopped next to Hermione and held them out to her, almost as a peace offering, Draco thought, causing the room to erupt in frantic whispering as everyone took in the romantic gesture.

He watched as Hermione, clearly ecstatic at the gift, leapt up from her seat and wrapped her arms around Weasley to hug him tightly as she kissed him. The boy’s arm waved precariously as he tried not to squash the flowers. His sister took them from him, looking as surprised as everyone else, allowing him to wrap his arms around Hermione in return as their kiss intensified.

Draco made a snorting noise in disgust and turned away.

‘You were right. He is her boyfriend,’ Blaise said, sounding surprised. ‘I hope they’re not going to start all this kissing in public again.’ He looked at Draco. ‘Are you all right, Draco?’

‘Fine. I’ve just had enough of all this Valentine’s crap already,’ Draco said testily. ‘Where do you think the Weasel stole those flowers from? He couldn’t possibly afford to buy them for her. Everyone knows he and his family have got no money.’

Blaise studied him intently for a moment. He looked back over to Hermione, who was now sitting down, all smiles, as she talked animatedly to her friends with occasional fond looks at Ron, then back at Draco.

‘Do you fancy Granger?’ he asked quietly.

Draco snorted again. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Blaise. She’s a Mudblood. Why on earth would I have any interest in her?’

Blaise shrugged. ‘Just saying it as I see it. You’ve spent all morning watching her eat and you suddenly got awfully grumpy when Weasley gave her those flowers. I just wondered whether she was the reason you didn’t send Pansy a card this year.’

‘She isn’t,’ Draco snapped. ‘I’m just fed up with all this Valentine’s crap. It’s not important, especially cheap cards and gifts. It’s all just rubbish and a pointless waste of time.’

‘Well, I’m with you on thinking that it’s rubbish, but I’m not quite so violently opposed to it,’ Blaise said. ‘It makes the girls happy and surely that’s a good thing. It completely brightened up Granger’s day getting those flowers — look at the way she’s smiling. It makes her look much prettier. Anyway, at least we haven’t got to put up with all those hideous decorations like that time that twat Lockhart organised it. Now that was bad.’

‘But why does she want crappy cards and stupid flowers instead of the real thing?’ Draco growled. He stood up. ‘I’ve had enough. I’m getting out of here. I’ll see you later.’

Blaise let him go, watching his friend curiously as Draco looked over at Hermione one final time before storming angrily out of the Great Hall.

* * *

Draco loitered in the corridor, waiting for Hermione. He knew she would be coming this way shortly as they had both just finished an Arithmancy lesson, the first one of the day where she hadn’t been with her blasted boyfriend and his best mate.

It was fortuitous timing as she had a free period next, which would mean she was alone and was bound to head for the Library as Potter and Weasley had Divination in the North Tower. Draco was supposed to have Divination too, but he was happy to forgo a lesson with that daft old bat, Trelawney, in order to spend some quality time with the lovely Miss Granger.

Draco had a Valentine’s present for Hermione too, but it was something far more personal than the one given to her by Weasley. He just had to get her alone long enough to deliver it. The great thing about this corridor was that it intersected with another that was far less well used and he would have no trouble finding a disused classroom.

As Hermione reached him he pushed himself away from the wall to walk along beside her.

‘Ah, Mary, just the person,’ he announced brightly.

‘I thought you’d forgotten all about that,’ Hermione said with a smile. She sounded amused.

Draco shook his head. ‘No, of course not. But I told you I’d only call you that when we’re alone. However, sadly, I haven’t had much chance to get you alone recently. You keep avoiding me.’

‘I don’t keep avoiding you,’ Hermione replied, ‘just the solitary places where you might grab me for a kiss or something.’

‘As I said . . . avoiding me,’ Draco said, sounding miserable.

‘Well, I didn’t do that good a job, did I, otherwise, we wouldn’t be here now,’ Hermione pointed out.

‘This isn’t solitary,’ Draco said. He took hold of her arm. ‘Now, down there—’ he pointed down the other corridor— ‘is a much better place for us to go. We’re far less likely to be disturbed.’

‘But I don’t want to go somewhere with you where we’re unlikely to be disturbed, hence the avoidance,’ Hermione retorted.

‘Don’t be a spoilsport, Mary. I just want to spend a little time with you to celebrate Valentine’s Day. That’s not too much to ask, is it?’

‘That depends on what you’ve got in mind,’ Hermione said, ‘and stop calling me Mary. It’s really annoying after a while.’

‘Okay, I’ll stop calling you Mary if you come with me,’ Draco told her slyly.

‘I can’t, I need to go. I’ve got—’

‘A free period,’ Draco said, cutting her off, ‘and then it’s the end of lessons so you’re free until dinner time. That’s plenty of time for what I’ve got in mind.’

‘But I’m not sure I want to know what you’ve got in mind, Draco. And how do you know I’ve got a free period?’

‘I’ve kept track of your timetable,’ Draco admitted insouciantly. ‘I know when all your lessons are.’

‘That’s a bit creepy, actually,’ Hermione told him.

‘I didn’t mean it in a stalker way. I just like to know what you’re doing.’

‘That _is _a stalker way,’ she pointed out.

Draco shrugged uncaringly. ‘Well, whatever. It meant I knew that you had a free period now.’

‘What are you normally doing at this time?’ Hermione asked curiously. She was sure she had never seen Draco around anywhere when she had been off before.

‘Divination with those idiots you go around with. But I wanted to spend some time with you and I’m sure Trelawney won’t miss me for one lesson. She’ll be too busy prophesying Potter’s death as usual.’

He looked at the rooms they were passing, debating whether any of them would be suitable for what he had in mind.

‘Let’s go in here.’ He motioned towards a door on the left.

‘I think I’m going to say no. I shouldn’t be going anywhere with you, especially deserted classrooms.’

‘Oh, come on, live a little, Hermione. I can’t give you your Valentine out here in full view of the school, can I?’ Draco winked at her and opened the door to the classroom. ‘Give me five minutes and then if you want to leave you can.’

Hermione’s heart was beating double time as Draco tried to coerce her into joining him in the classroom. She knew she should say no, especially after the beautiful flowers Ron had surprised her with at breakfast but she was curious to know what Draco had got her — and he was right, there was no way he could give it to her where anyone else might see in case it got back to Ron.

‘Five minutes, but then I’m leaving,’ she said sternly and followed him into the classroom after making sure that no one was around to see her do it.

The door closed behind her as Draco used his wand to close, lock and ward it at the same time. He hurriedly cast a silencing charm too, to ensure no one would hear them.

‘Five minutes,’ Hermione reminded him, raising her hand with its fingers outstretched to indicate five.

Draco smiled. ‘You won’t leave.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on that. So what’s this Valentine, then?’ Hermione asked, cutting to the chase. ‘I didn’t get you anything . . . obviously.’

‘Where did the Weasel get those flowers from?’ Draco blurted out. ‘A bit out of his price range, I would have thought.’

‘Which makes it an even more special gift,’ Hermione replied with a silly smile. ‘They were beautiful, weren’t they? I couldn’t believe he had really bought them for me. And he kissed me.’

Draco frowned. ‘Doesn’t he usually kiss you, then?’

‘Of course he does,’ Hermione said, rapidly trying to cover her mistake. ‘But not usually in public . . . I mean . . . in the Great Hall.’

‘He’s kissed you in the Great Hall before — at Christmas,’ Draco said shortly. ‘I saw him do it while you were dancing.’

‘That was at a party and all the lights were dimmed, and we were under the mistletoe. He’s never kissed me at the breakfast table with everyone watching.’ She sighed a touch wistfully. ‘It was rather nice, actually, to have someone pay me that much attention for once.’

‘I pay you attention,’ Draco retorted, once more feeling annoyed at how happy Hermione was with Weasley.

‘In deserted classrooms and alcoves,’ Hermione said. Draco started to protest but she cut him off. ‘It’s all right, I understand why we’re in here.’

‘That’s because you turned me down,’ Draco told her, sounding offended. ‘If you had gone out with me instead of Weasley I’d have been the one kissing you in the Great Hall, and believe me it wouldn’t have just been this morning.’

Feeling a little uncomfortable at Draco’s comment, Hermione tried to turn things back to the Valentine.

‘So we’ve been here for a couple of minutes now and your time’s almost up. Are you going to give me this Valentine or just continue to moan about Ron?’

‘Are you going to let me kiss you?’ Draco asked.

He moved towards Hermione and wrapped his arms around her, his lips finding hers for a kiss that he was determined was going to be better than any Ronald Weasley could ever give her. He was gratified when Hermione’s arms snaked around him in return.

‘I love you,’ he told her afterwards, his voice soft and full of desire.

Hermione stared at him disconcertedly. Her heart was hammering after yet another wonderful kiss but she knew she should leave, especially if Draco was going to start talking about love again.

‘I think I should go. The five minutes is up anyway.’

‘Please don’t leave, Hermione. I haven’t given you your Valentine yet,’ Draco said.

‘All right, you’ve got another five minutes. But no more kissing,’ Hermione warned him. She held out her hand. ‘So, where’s this Valentine, then?’

‘So eager,’ Draco teased. ‘But I can’t guarantee no more kissing. In fact, I’d say it was an integral part of the Valentine.’

‘Then I shall have to refuse it as I already have a boyfriend . . . as you well know.’

‘Don’t you even want to know what it is?’ Draco’s eyes glinted wickedly as he asked the question.

‘I assume it’s not a card unless it’s got kisses in it, and it’s not going to be flowers; unless you intend to make them appear out of your sleeve like one of those Muggle magicians—’

Before she could say anything else, Draco grabbed her and kissed her again.

‘I don’t want to give you some cheap and gaudy Valentine, my love,’ Draco whispered in her ear, his hand stroking her neck, causing Hermione to shiver. ‘I have something much better in mind, something much more exciting and far more pleasurable.’

Hermione tried to pull away from him, needing to get away before things got out of hand, but he wouldn’t let her go.

More worriedly, she said, ‘I told you I’m not interested. I’m going out with Ron and you need to respect the boundaries of that. I shouldn’t even be kissing you and I definitely shouldn’t be doing anything else. I think it’s time I went. Please let go of me.’

‘But you enjoyed what we did at Christmas,’ Draco said slyly.

Hermione sighed. ‘Yes, I enjoyed the kisses and I’ve enjoyed them today, too. I admit that I like kissing you, Draco . . . but it’s not fair to Ron. We have to stop otherwise it’s going to get out of hand.’

‘Then let it get out of hand. Perhaps you need to rethink whether Weasley is the right boyfriend for you. The fact that you want to kiss me so much would point to it being otherwise,’ Draco suggested.

‘I’ve just told you we have to stop with the kissing. You need to let me go so I can leave,’ Hermione said, and she pulled herself determinedly out of his arms.

‘I wasn’t actually talking about the kisses at Christmas, by the way,’ Draco told her, his voice subtly more seductive now. ‘At least not the ones when I was dressed as Casanova, although they were rather wonderful. I was talking about earlier in the evening when we disappeared for a quiet hour together. You definitely enjoyed what I did to you then . . . as did I.’

He winked louchely as he waited for her reaction to his bombshell.

Hermione stared at him in shock, her stomach suddenly turning cartwheels as she realised what Draco was intimating. It couldn’t be true, surely? He must have seen her and Ron disappearing off together and realised where they had been going. It was a lucky guess, nothing more, and he was just trying to play on her emotions, as usual; trying to get her to react in hopes that it would make her stay here with him longer.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she answered quietly, praying that her guess was right. ‘I don’t care what your Valentine is any longer, Draco. I want to leave. Open the door, please.’

Draco chuckled richly as he moved closer, his hands clasping hers to stop her moving although he knew she couldn’t leave until the wards were broken on the door. He ignored the glare she gave him at this.

‘Don’t tell me you don’t remember what we did, Hermione. I _know_ you remember the orgasms I gave you — they were absolutely perfect, weren’t they?’ He saw Hermione’s eyes widen as she realised he wasn’t bluffing. Not giving her a chance to react, he continued. ‘Gods, you tasted so good, my love, just like sugar and spice. You know how much I wanted to taste you and I finally got my wish that night . . . and it was bloody fantastic.’

Hermione blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears that were suddenly pricking her eyes. She felt sick and completely mortified at the thought that it was Draco rather than Ron who had taken advantage of her. Still not willing to believe him she shook her head rapidly as if that would stop it from being true.

‘No, that wasn’t you, Draco. That can’t have been you. It was Ron. I know it was Ron.’

Draco pulled her towards him and into a hug, his voice low and sensual as he spoke, trying to calm her as her reaction had been rather more horrified than he had expected.

‘It was me, Hermione, not Weasley. You tasted so good and I enjoyed making you come so much . . . remember, I told you that night that you were perfect . . . and you are, and I was speaking from experience. You made me so hard I really wished we had more time so we could have gone further, but that wasn’t possible, and I couldn’t get you to do anything more than kiss me when I managed to spend that time with you later in the evening. I didn’t really mind, though. As I said, it was all about you and I was willing to wait, knowing that when we did finally get together properly it would be completely amazing.’

‘But it was Ron,’ Hermione insisted, still shaking her head. ‘It wasn’t you. I would have known.’

Draco shook his head, too, as he gazed at her tenderly. ‘Sorry, no, my love. It was definitely me, although I will admit to having disguised myself to do it. Of course, I’d have preferred not to have to do it as Santa, especially in that nasty cheap suit, but I didn’t really have any choice thanks to Weasley and his uninspired choice of fancy dress. It was the only way I could guarantee I could get you alone.’ He thought it best not to mention the Polyjuice Potion directly, knowing Hermione would be even more upset with him although if she asked him about it, he wouldn’t deny it.

He wrinkled his nose, looking a little disgusted. ‘I can’t believe you really thought it was that great lummox. There’s just no way Weasley could give you that much pleasure, he hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing. I mean, you only had to see him with that other girlfriend of his — all those disgusting wet kisses all over the place. It’s actually laughable that you really thought it was him.’ 

Hermione could feel a lead weight in her stomach and her head was spinning. It was Draco, not Ron, who had made her feel so wonderful, had given her so much pleasure. Her whole relationship with Ronald was based on a lie.

She still didn’t want to believe it was true — it was too shocking to contemplate — but it explained perfectly Ron’s attitude towards her in the aftermath. No wonder he had pretended that nothing had happened — nothing had, not with him at least. But that meant she and Draco . . . . 

‘But . . . why . . . how . . .’ Hermione began, her voice breaking as the truth overwhelmed her and she had trouble putting her jumbled thoughts into words.

‘You are so intelligent, Hermione, but sometimes you can be so dense,’ Draco said, completely exasperated now. ‘When are you finally going to get it into your pretty head that I am completely and utterly in love with you? I told you I wasn’t going to give up, that I would keep trying to get you to be my girlfriend, and I meant it.’

‘But what you did . . . .’

‘Was something we both enjoyed,’ Draco pointed out. ‘Don’t try to pretend you didn’t because I know the truth.’

But you shouldn’t—’

‘Why not?’ Draco asked, cutting her off. ‘I never said I played fair, did I? I’m a Slytherin, so I’m willing to do whatever I have to do to make you realise that you should be my girlfriend, not Weasley’s. I make no apologies for fighting for you.’

Hermione thought about all the times Draco had pulled her into alcoves, his lips trying to convince her that she should be with him. She wondered how she had never realised that his kisses were the same as Santa’s. It should have been obvious, especially when Ron’s kisses had turned out to be such a disappointment.

She was shocked to think that she may have known and yet had somehow convinced herself that Ron had to be the one, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Hermione recalled that at the time she had even considered what it would be like to be with Draco in that way, but her brain still hadn’t made the connection.

But it was all very well Draco insisting that he wanted her to be his girlfriend, but everything he had done had been done in secret, well away from the rest of the school and his Slytherin friends who would be sure to judge him harshly. And then there was his family. She was certain they wouldn’t be too happy about him having a relationship with her, either.

Was he just playing with her, then, or was this just another way of trying to ruin her life? It didn’t matter what the ghosts had told her, it would be just like Draco to lead her on and get her to end her relationship with Ron, just to let her down, to humiliate her for being stupid enough to believe him.

He could say and do whatever he wanted when they were alone together like this, as they had been in the Shrieking Shack and all those times in the alcoves, and even at Christmas, but she was sure Draco wouldn’t be so keen to show his so-called affection in public and he was playing on her insecurities and guilt to make sure he never had to.

‘I tried to be the better man and keep away from you, but I couldn’t do it,’ Draco admitted quietly as he held her tight. ‘I just couldn’t believe with all those wonderful kisses we’d shared at the Shrieking Shack that you would really choose Weasley over me. I was certain I would be able to eventually convince you that I was the one for you. But you’re such a tough nut to crack, Hermione.’

‘It’s all very secret squirrel, though, isn’t it?’ Hermione accused. ‘You haven’t made much effort to catch me publicly, have you? Let’s face it, Draco, you won’t even talk to me unless we’re alone, not even in lessons, so I don’t know how you can expect me to believe that you’re serious.’

Draco released her, looking at her in surprise.

‘I tried to kiss you at the Christmas party if you remember. You were the one who stopped it because everyone would see us,’ he reminded her. Then he chuckled. ‘Anyway, I don’t think you really want me getting _too_ public, do you?’ He raised his eyebrows expressively, then grinned wickedly. ‘Although I don’t mind if you don’t. I’ll go down on you anywhere. Just say the word and I’m all yours. How about in the Great Hall? That would beat a kiss off of Weasley any day of the week, wouldn’t it?’

Hermione shook her head and folded her arms, looking at him crossly. ‘You know that’s not what I’m talking about. And now you’re deflecting. I know what you’re doing, Draco.’

‘Trying to convince you to become my girlfriend so I can make love to you,’ Draco shot back.

‘No. You’re playing with me for whatever twisted reason your mind has conjured. I suppose it’s all a bit of fun, isn’t it, getting me to dump Ron for you. And then what? You tell me it was all a big joke and I’m some stupid idiot for falling for it? Well, I can tell you now that’s not going to happen. Now let me out. I want to leave.’

‘I’m in love with you, Hermione,’ Draco told her earnestly. ‘I don’t know how many times I have to say it or what I have to do to prove it to you, but I’m telling you the truth. Do you honestly think I would have gone to all that trouble at Christmas just for a joke? If that was true, I would have made damn sure everyone in the school knew what we’d done — let’s face it that would have really pissed off you and your friends. But I want you to be my girlfriend, and that continues to be true however often you turn me down. I just don’t understand why you keep saying no when it’s quite obvious you fancy me as much as I do you.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Hermione said weakly.

She knew it sounded like a lie, even to her own ears. The truth was that she did fancy Draco and she loved kissing him. She even loved what he had done to her at Christmas, however annoyed she might be with him about it now. But there was too much bad history for her to accept him as her boyfriend.

Now there was Ron to think about, too. She had always fancied him and knew that she had let herself believe that what Draco had done to her was really done by Ron because she had been so desperate to be his girlfriend.

While it was true that he hadn’t exactly reciprocated her feelings in the past, today he had shown he loved her. That beautiful bouquet of expensive flowers coupled with the kiss proved that, didn’t it? So why would she give up on her long-held dream of a relationship with Ron for the chance of humiliation and heartache with Draco?

‘I’m sorry, but it doesn’t change anything. Ron’s still my boyfriend and that’s not going to change.’

‘What can I do?’ Draco asked desperately. He was growing despondent at Hermione’s continued refusals. ‘What about my Valentine?’

‘I still have no idea what it is,’ Hermione said. ‘You haven’t shown it to me.’

‘Surely you must be able to guess, my love. I want to make you come, want to taste that wonderful sugar and spice again . . . and more . . . there’s so much I want to do with you, Hermione.’

Hermione’s stomach rippled as a feeling of desire and need rushed through her body like a tidal wave. Her heart was racing as she recalled the wonderful feelings Draco had aroused in her last time and she knew without a doubt he could repeat them so easily.

Part of her was amazed at how unselfish Draco was being again. Although he had told her how much their last encounter had stimulated him, and she remembered his erection at the time, he hadn’t said anything about her pleasuring him. Once again it was all about her. What if what he was saying was true and he really was in love with her?

For a moment the idea of Draco as her boyfriend thrilled and inflamed Hermione, the arousal flaring even more, threatening to break down that wall she had built against him, but almost immediately the guilt overwhelmed it, damping down the flames as she realised what she would be doing to Ron by saying yes.

Hermione knew what she had to do, but she couldn’t help feeling sorry for the boy who had given her so much pleasure so many times, knowing how much she was probably going to hurt him if he was being sincere about his feelings for her.

She reached out to gently stroke Draco’s face. His smile grew at her touch, then faded when he saw the genuine pain in her eyes.

‘I’m sorry, Draco, but I’m saying no again.’

Draco went to protest but Hermione put a finger to his lips to stop him speaking.

‘I know you think you love me, Draco, and I’ll admit I do enjoy kissing you and that while I’m annoyed at you for tricking me at Christmas, what you did really was wonderful. But however good it feels now, it can’t last between us. It’s like a gigantic fireball, and when it burns itself out we’ll both be left burnt and in pain. Ron might not be the most romantic person in the world but he’s steady and he loves me, and I’m not willing to give him up for something that doesn’t make any logical sense.’

‘Love isn’t logical, Hermione,’ Draco replied passionately, ‘and however much you think Weasley loves you it will _never _be as much as I love you . . . not in a million years.’

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t take that chance,’ Hermione said. ‘I need to go.’

Draco gazed at her intently for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him.

‘Can I at least give you one last Valentine’s kiss?’ he asked hopefully.

Knowing it would be churlish to refuse and wanting to get things over with, and also secretly wanting another kiss, Hermione nodded. Draco moved towards her, his mouth finding hers tenderly at first, then with all the passion he could muster.

Hermione clung to him, wondering if this would be the last time they ever kissed. Surely now he would give up on his quest to make her his girlfriend, would understand that they weren’t meant to be a couple, wouldn’t he?

As had happened so many times before, the memory of the ghosts with their unwanted message lodged itself in Hermione’s mind, but she pushed it away as she pushed away Draco at the end of the kiss, determined not to think about how he was supposed to be her true love.

‘Thank you for the kiss, Hermione. I really wish it could have been more, but I understand that you have some issues you need to work through,’ Draco said magnanimously as he released her. He used his wand to open the door, then stared at Hermione for a moment. ‘You really are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met,’ he told her honestly.

Hermione could feel herself blushing at his compliment. She knew she should go before anything else happened, but suddenly she felt strangely reluctant to leave Draco.

His hand disappeared into his robe and reappeared a moment later clutching a red envelope. He thrust it at Hermione looking a touch embarrassed. She stared at it in surprise for a moment before reaching out to take it. After everything that had just happened she had never expected a card.

‘Was this the card you didn’t give to Pansy?’ she asked, remembering the towering temper the Slytherin girl had been in all day because she hadn’t received a Valentine from Draco; a crime apparently made so much worse by Ron’s thoughtful gift to Hermione.

Draco snorted disgustedly. ‘I told you before: Pansy has never been my girlfriend, she just thought she was. I used to send her a card to keep the peace as it was easier than putting up with her sulking, but I can’t do it any longer. I decided to cut her loose, make her realise there’s nothing there. Why should I placate her when it’s _you_ I want?’ He gazed at her tenderly for a moment, then added gruffly, ‘The card was meant for you, Hermione, and no one else. If you don’t want it, throw it away.’

Without another word he turned and walked quickly out of the door, leaving Hermione alone and staring after him in surprise, realising that she hadn’t thanked him for the card. She looked down at the envelope, her heart pounding again.

Hermione knew she should just throw it away unopened. Looking at the card would only reopen Pandora’s box after she had fought so hard to get it closed again. For several minutes, she stood there trying to convince herself that she didn’t want to know what the card said. Then, with a sigh of resignation, she ran her finger under the flap to open the envelope and after a few seconds more she pulled out the card.

The Valentine card was plain except for a large stylised red heart on a cream background. From the thickness of the parchment, it was obviously expensive. She stared at it for several more seconds, almost scared to look within.

Hermione took a deep breath as she opened the card and looked at the message carefully inscribed inside, and her heart skipped a beat. She realised her hands were shaking and a somewhat lightheaded feeling came over her as she stared at the message Draco had left her.

There was only one word and it filled almost the entire page:

MINE!


	5. Easter

Draco was becoming increasingly vexed. Since his far too brief rendezvous with Hermione on Valentine’s Day, he hadn’t been able to get anywhere near her. Now she was aware that he knew her timetable she took extra special care to ensure she was never alone, or at least not when she was anywhere that he could take advantage of the situation, and it was slowly driving him to distraction.

In the immediate aftermath of that day he had wondered whether the card he had given Hermione, combined with her discovery that it had been he, not Weasley, who had got so intimate with her at Christmas, would have been enough to have her questioning her relationship with the lanky redhead and considering Draco in terms of being her boyfriend instead. But if it had he had so far seen no sign of it and now he wasn’t even sure whether she had actually bothered to open the card or had just chucked it, unread, into the nearest bin.

Annoyingly, Hermione and Weasley seemed as close as ever, closer if anything, as the boy had started to become more visibly romantic towards her. There wasn’t all that nasty kissing as there had been with the Weasel’s previous girlfriend, thank Merlin, but it was still sickening to see them wandering around the school holding hands, concentrating only on each other as they talked and laughed at private jokes, or doubling up with Potter and Weasley’s sister, the four of them making a picture-perfect group that made Draco want to puke.

His response had been to spend a considerable amount of time over the subsequent month or so scowling angrily at the couple across the tables of the Great Hall. He was certain Hermione had seen him but she steadfastly ignored him these days, not even catching his eye by accident as so often used to be the case.

Draco had become so bad-tempered in the days that followed that Blaise had begun to question him again and finally, needing someone to confide in, he had admitted something of his desire to his best friend. He hadn’t been explicit at first, nor had he admitted to the full depth of his feelings for Hermione, worried that Blaise as a Slytherin Pure-blood would be as contemptuous as Draco himself would once have been.

But when Draco had discovered, to his amazement, that Blaise’s feelings for Muggle-borns were no different to his feelings for anyone else and he was surprisingly sympathetic to Draco’s plight, he had opened up further, pouring his heart out to his best friend, who was remarkably supportive.

Draco had been wavering between leaving Hermione alone in the hope that she might come to her senses of her own accord when she realised she missed him and forcing himself on her at every available opportunity, even if only to remind her that he existed.

He remembered that she had accused him of trying to keep any potential relationship between them a secret and of not talking to her, even in lessons, and felt that by proving her wrong in this maybe she would finally realise he was serious in his love for her.

So far he hadn’t taken any further action in this direction, though, as Blaise had quite astutely pointed out that although he might not care who Draco fancied, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of his friends. There was no point in going all out and ostracising himself when there was little certainty that Hermione would change her mind about him.

Blaise had also pointed out that Draco’s parents weren’t going to be very pleased with him if they found out so maybe it was for the best that Hermione wasn’t interested, but as far as Draco was concerned this was a non-issue.

Although his parents had always detested Muggles and Muggle-borns, mainly because they didn’t really know any, and his father knew of and disliked Hermione in particular because she was forever beating Draco in lessons and was a friend of Harry Potter, Draco was quietly confident that they would accept her as his girlfriend eventually because despite everything his parents wanted him to be happy. Once they were a couple, it would be quite clear to everyone that Hermione made him extremely happy.

Admittedly, it might potentially be a little uncomfortable to begin with, but Draco was certain his mother would come around almost immediately. His father might take a little longer, but not much. Draco suspected that underneath the disdain he had to show because he was a Death Eater, his father was secretly quite impressed with Hermione’s skills as a Muggle-born witch. He had recently begun to surmise, although he would never admit it to anyone else, that his parents no longer believed in the Dark Lord’s views quite as vigorously as they once had.

Draco knew that despite their ongoing worry about tainting their perfect Pure-blood line, which he had recently discovered wasn’t actually quite as pure as his parents would have had him believe, Hermione’s strong magical ability and her extreme cleverness would eventually win them over. After all, keeping the Malfoy line magically strong was all they really cared about, apart from money, and once she was part of the family for a few years no one would remember or even dare to question her origins.

Now it was almost Easter and once again Draco was being tortured as his mind conjured fantasy after fantasy about him and Hermione alone somewhere, preferably with lots of molten chocolate. The idea of all that sugar and spice with a coating of chocolate on top was definitely leaving him hot and bothered, and without any way of satiating his need his temper was beginning to rise. It was taking every ounce of willpower not to square up to Weasley in his annoyance that the redhead was still besting him without even trying.

If he was honest, the only reason he hadn’t already done so was that he knew it would set Hermione further against him, and that was the last thing Draco needed. Instead, he had to play a waiting game until she finally admitted what he already knew, that she was in love with him too.

The wait was so bloody frustrating, though. 

* * *

Ever since Draco had given her his card on Valentine’s Day, Hermione had been trying to decide what to do. Initially, she had been annoyed with him for deceiving her at Christmas, especially considering what he had done to her. But deep down she had to admit to being flattered that he was willing to go such lengths to be with her, even if it was only in private.

Draco should never have been able to accost her in disguise and should probably be reported for his behaviour to ensure that nothing like it happened again as it could definitely be classified as abusive. But the truth was that she hadn’t made much of an effort to stop him when she thought he was Ron, and there was a little part of Hermione that wasn’t convinced that she still wouldn’t have done anything had she known at the time that her lover was Draco.

Her desire for the blond Slytherin, which Hermione already had trouble keeping under control, was threatening to drive her completely insane as she sought to keep away from him and any other temptation, such as more of those wonderful kisses that made her stomach swirl and her blood tingle.

In the immediate aftermath of their Valentine encounter Hermione had felt extremely guilty for the intense rush of desire she felt for Draco on seeing the possessive message in his card, coupled with the now almost certain knowledge that he was telling her the truth about his feelings for her.

It had almost been enough to have her running to find him as her brain once again reminded her about the ghosts’ prophecy, the little voice in her mind trying to convince her that it was the right thing to do. But the sensible part of her that fortunately always took precedence made her stop, calm down and then think about things rationally.

Yes, there was a definite attraction there that went deeper than just flattery. Draco was right; she did fancy him and she knew he was probably infatuated with her in return. But that didn’t mean that a relationship between them was any more sensible now than it had been before.

There was still the past to consider, and his and her friends; the idea of having to deal with Ron after not only splitting up with him but then embarking upon a relationship with his worst enemy was enough in itself to stop Hermione from making a move.

Added to this was the knowledge that she still had feelings for Ron. She remembered the beautiful flowers and the kiss which had finally proved his love for her — had proved that despite his earlier reticence there was a relationship between them.

It was this more than anything else that had sunk any consideration of taking things further with Draco. Knowing she was being unfaithful to Ron, in thought if not in deed, Hermione decided she would dispose of the card, completely ignore Draco, and work on strengthening her relationship with her boyfriend.

If she was honest, Hermione had failed at the first hurdle as she had so far been unable to throw the card away. She really had tried. She couldn’t bring herself to destroy the card completely but she threw it into the first rubbish bin she came across after leaving the classroom. But ten minutes later she found herself wandering down that same corridor and almost absent-mindedly retrieved the card from the bin.

In the end, Hermione resorted to hiding it at the bottom of her trunk, which she locked to ensure she wouldn’t be tempted to get the card out and look at it — something she wouldn’t be able to do with her roommates there, anyway, at least not without them querying what it was.

Now, even more than a month later she still hadn’t been able to completely put it out of her mind or take that final step and get rid of it and she could feel it lurking there, like that blasted _Monster Book of Monsters_, waiting to pounce if she once lowered her guard.

She had been a little more successful at ignoring Draco, through pure grim determination on her part. After several weeks of forcing herself to not look at the Slytherin table during meals or around the room to where he was sitting in class, she had almost managed to make it a habit. But this, too, was a battle and once again constant vigilance was required in order to stop herself from doing something stupid that she would later regret.

Her best result had come from strengthening her relationship with Ron, at least superficially. Determined to build on their Valentine’s Day kiss she insisted that he hold hands with her whenever they went anywhere together, although she drew the line at more public kissing. While it was nice that people now realised she and Ron were a couple, Hermione remembered the dreadful spectacle of him and Lavender snogging all over the place and was determined that she and Ron wouldn’t be talked about in the way they had been.

She wasn’t stupid enough to think it was just that, though. Hermione knew part of the reason she didn’t want the public intimacy was that she didn’t want to upset Draco any more than she already had done. For this reason, too, she tried her hardest to keep away from areas where the Slytherin boy could get her alone, making sure not to tempt fate, even if she occasionally really wanted to. 

But despite the fact that she and Ron now held hands the truth was that there was still little else in the way of a solid relationship between them, and as time went on Hermione found herself craving the pleasure Draco could surely provide.

Unable to be too forward as she suspected it would shock Ron, and not in a good way, she had tried to encourage her quite clearly inexperienced boyfriend to become a little more physical without taking things too far, but to no avail, and as the weeks went past without any escalation at all Hermione began to wonder whether maybe she had made the wrong choice.

She still cared for Ron, she really did, and part of her still tingled whenever she saw him. But as time went on the feeling that she had made a mistake with Draco continued to grow until eventually it dominated almost all her waking thoughts.

Hermione was still determined not to look at the Slytherin boy, knowing this would only exacerbate the problem, but if she was honest, she did take the occasional sly peek when she knew he wasn’t looking at her and she had lost count of the number of times she had drifted away in class while she imagined meeting Draco in a deserted corridor.

It had got so bad a couple of times that she had actually had to be brought back to reality by one of her friends, nudging her to get her mind back on the lesson before she got into trouble. Of course she hadn’t been able to explain to any of them what she had been daydreaming about, but Hermione was aware it was getting out of hand and she needed to do something about it before it began to affect her schoolwork.

In the end she spent the whole of one of her free periods when she was supposed to be catching up on homework and revision, sitting in the Library weighing up the pros and cons of continuing in the way she was currently doing versus admitting her attraction to Draco and doing something about it. This frank and admittedly well overdue examination revealed, as Hermione already knew deep down it would, that she wanted to be with Draco despite the challenges it would create.

The most important of these, Hermione felt, was overcoming the problem of Ron’s feelings being hurt. But she sensibly reasoned that it would be much worse if he caught her cheating with Draco than if she ended her relationship with him first. It was likely that Ron would be angry with her anyway over the split, so adding Draco afterwards wasn’t going to make much of a difference. At least she would have the Slytherin boy’s support during any nastiness that came as a backlash to ending the relationship. 

With that thought in mind Hermione headed off to her next lesson, determined to talk to Ron at the earliest opportunity.

* * *

If Hermione was honest, she was actually a little disappointed at how easily her relationship with Ron had ended. Not that she wanted it to be difficult — she didn’t, not really. But it would have boosted her confidence a little to know that he was heartbroken at her ending it, and it would have made her feel vindicated in thinking there had really been something between them and she hadn’t wasted so much time on a relationship that was obviously going nowhere in an effort to pretend that she wasn’t in love with Draco.

Hermione was more nervous than she expected to be when she got Ron alone to explain to him how she was feeling. But instead of the outrage and hurt she had imagined him expressing, Ron actually seemed rather relieved by the whole thing — which hurt quite a bit more than Hermione wanted to admit.

It was true that she hadn’t told him about Draco, which would undoubtedly have made him react slightly differently to her news. But instead of the mournful pleas for her to reconsider that Hermione had expected, Ron was optimistically stoic and accepting, saying something about them being better as friends than as a couple, anyway.

And so it was that Hermione and Ron’s relationship ended with a whimper rather than a bang. 

Even though Hermione was now single she didn’t immediately go searching for Draco because a little part of her brain was still fighting everything that her hormones, her heart and the Halloween ghosts were telling her . . . that Draco was her true love.

Additionally, despite being fairly certain that his feelings for her were as romantic as he kept telling her they were, there was still that horrid possibility that as a Pure-blood and a supporter of Voldemort he might just be winding her up and trying to ruin her once again non-existent relationship with Ron.

Hermione had wondered several times now what would have happened if she had been honest with Draco at Halloween before she and Ron became a couple. She was certain that if she and the Slytherin had embarked upon a relationship back then she would have had sex with him by now, maybe even back as far as at Christmas. But would they still be a couple or would Draco’s interest in her have waned after conquering her sexually?

The way he talked indicated that his interest in her ran far deeper than just carnal desire, despite his spending every possible moment trying to get her into bed. Hermione wished there was a way she could find out for sure.

As happened so frequently, the ghosts from the Shrieking Shack came into her mind and Hermione finally began to wonder whether they had said anything to Draco about her. He had seen them just as she had, two of them at least, and she couldn’t help wondering whether the ghosts had been matchmaking.

It would certainly explain Draco’s sudden desire for her during their incarceration together, although to be fair to the boy she had never actually been alone with him for any length of time previous to that so she couldn’t definitively say it had been because of the advice from the ghosts.

The problem was that there was no way to find out without talking to Draco, and if she did that he was going to wonder why she was trying to find out. She suspected that just as she had refused to admit what the ghosts had told her, Draco too would pretend that their advice had been nothing to do with romance.

But she had waited long enough now and her desire for Draco was becoming untenable, so she had no choice but to go and find him and, bloody annoyingly, finally admit he was right — that she was as attracted to him as he was to her.

Hermione just hoped it wasn’t going to be the biggest mistake she would ever make. 

* * *

Draco was fed up with waiting for Hermione and it was really beginning to get him down. Watching the couple as carefully as he had he had got the impression that she and Weasley were no longer an item; he hadn’t seen them holding hands for the best part of a fortnight now. But if that was true she hadn’t come to see him and was still making every effort to keep away from anywhere he could accost her to find out for sure.

However, this morning he had noticed Hermione looking at him during breakfast and his heart skipped a beat when he realised it wasn’t an accident. He didn’t feel too optimistic, though, because it was April Fools’ Day and he couldn’t help suspecting that she might be playing a trick on him. This feeling grew when at the end of the meal Hermione made her way over towards the Slytherin table on her way to the door, trying to catch his eye once again.

Draco knew she was trying to signal to him to leave the table and meet her outside where they could talk in private, but annoyance suddenly rose in him that Hermione was still attempting to make him sneak around after she’d had the audacity to accuse him of being the one trying to keep things a secret.

This, in turn, fuelled his anger at Hermione making him wait so long for her when it had been clear almost from the start that she fancied him, especially since Draco knew he was a far better prospect than Weasley was ever going to be. Feeling extraordinarily petty now, Draco decided two could play the waiting game. He would see how much she liked it when he treated her the way she had treated him. 

Making sure Hermione was fully focused on him he turned to Pansy Parkinson and made a big play of being extremely interested in her, leaning in to whisper in her ear and making her blush with his suggestions.

Even as he did it, Draco knew it was a wicked thing to do to both girls, as Pansy giggled and wrapped her arms around him, whispering back in his ear in return, and Hermione stared at the couple looking horrified at what she was witnessing and hugely embarrassed at having almost done something extremely stupid.

Without saying a word she turned and walked away, leaving the Great Hall.

As Draco watched her go, her body language making it clear that she was hurt by his behaviour, he tried to tell himself that he didn’t care and it was her own stupid fault for taking so long to admit her interest.

It was only a joke, after all — an April Fools’ Day prank — but now Pansy was beginning to annoy him with her clinginess and as Hermione had left the room he had no need to keep hold of her. He pulled away from Pansy and stood up so he could go to back to the Slytherin common room. The dark-haired girl looked disappointed.

‘I’ll see you later, Draco,’ she told him as she gave him a saccharine smile. ‘Perhaps we can go somewhere nice and quiet tonight and spend some time together. That would be so lovely.’

Draco shrugged. ‘To be honest, Pansy, I’m probably going to be busy tonight. I was just having a bit of a laugh with you really — an April Fools’ Day joke.’

Pansy looked totally crestfallen. ‘I thought you wanted to get back together with me,’ she said, sounding disappointed.

Draco shook his head dismissively. ‘We were never together in the first place, Pansy. I’ve never been your boyfriend, whatever you might want to think. I’m really not interested in you in that way . . . and I never have been.’ Ignoring Pansy’s look of pain he walked away, heading towards the door.

A moment later Blaise ran to catch up with him. ‘What the hell were you doing in there, Draco?’ Blaise asked fiercely as they walked out of the Great Hall.

Draco shrugged again. ‘I don’t want Hermione thinking I’ve been waiting around for her, do I?’

Blaise looked confused. ‘I don’t understand. You fancy Hermione like mad and you’ve been trying to get her to go out with you for Merlin knows how long. Now she’s finally showing some interest in return you’re pretending to be all over Pansy and hurting her again in the process. Your behaviour in the Great Hall was absolutely repugnant and you deserve to be slapped down for it.’

Draco sighed. ‘It’s an April Fools’ joke, Blaise. I’m pretending I’m not interested in Hermione any longer, that she’s missed her chance.’

‘But why would you do that?’ Blaise was even more confused now.

‘I told you it’s just a joke,’ Draco snapped, then he sighed again. ‘I don’t really know why I did it,’ he admitted ruefully, knowing he was in the wrong. ‘I lost my temper because she was taking so long to admit I was right and it was the first thing I thought of.’

‘Well, you’re a bloody idiot, then,’ Blaise retorted bluntly. ‘Hermione looked really upset when she left. It wouldn’t surprise me if she refused to talk to you again . . . and it would serve you right.’

‘I was just giving her a taste of her own medicine,’ Draco muttered defensively.

‘But I still can’t understand why you would do that when you fancy her as much as you do. Surely that’s going to do more to drive her away than anything else you’ve done before? If you really do want her to be your girlfriend I think you just made a huge mistake, and treating Pansy that way really wasn’t very nice,’ Blaise warned.

Draco sounded bitter as he said, ‘I don’t think Hermione was really interested anyway. She probably just wanted to tell me that she and Weasley are getting engaged or something.’

Blaise stared at him in astonishment. ‘Gods, you’ve really got it bad, haven’t you?’ He saw Draco’s shoulders sag and his expression turn morose at the thought of what he had just done. ‘What if she really has split up with Weasley and was coming to tell you that? Now she’ll think you were just winding her up all this time. I’ve got no idea how you’re going to convince her that you weren’t.’

‘Yes, thank you, Blaise, I’m well aware that I’ve been a moron,’ Draco growled. Now his anger with Hermione had been quenched he was furious with himself for what he had done, both to Hermione and Pansy. Blaise was right, it really hadn’t been fair of him to stoke the dark-haired girl’s hopes again just to wind up Hermione.

It wasn’t Pansy’s fault that Hermione drove him to distraction — and his being rude to her in the aftermath was just plain mean. He would need to apologise to the unhappy girl, but he was also going to need to make it clear that there was never going to be anything between them — even if Hermione did refuse to speak to him ever again.

* * *

Hermione was mortified when she witnessed Draco pawing Pansy in the Great Hall. To think she had just been about to admit to him that he was right about her fancying him. Thank Merlin he had shown his true colours before she had a chance to say anything and completely humiliate herself in front of the whole school. Now she knew for certain that he had been lying about being in love with her. The other thing it confirmed was that Draco had been lying about his relationship with Pansy.

As she stormed angrily back towards Gryffindor Tower, Hermione realised this meant she could now throw away that bloody stupid card that had been tethering her to the sneaky Slytherin for the last few months. Despite what he had told her at the time he obviously _had_ sacrificed Pansy’s Valentine card in order to perpetuate his story about being in love with her. Now Hermione could get rid of the bloody thing without feeling guilty.

She attempted to do some homework but was unable to settle or concentrate. Still annoyed, Hermione brushed off Harry and Ron when they tried to talk to her on their return to the common room. Realising she was clearly in a foul mood although they had no idea why, the boys left her to get on with it and decided to go down to the Quidditch pitch to practice a few moves and keep out of her way until she calmed down.

Meanwhile, Hermione gave up on the homework and flung herself into her dormitory, fortunately empty, and onto her bed, the tears of anger and disappointment that she had managed to hold in check for so long finally escaping to track down her cheeks.

She buried her face in the pillow and sobbed quietly as her heart broke, pain coursing through her when she remembered the self-satisfied look on Draco’s face as he cuddled Pansy and the blissful look of triumph on the dark-haired girl’s pug-like face when she realised that Draco was hers.

Why had she ever been stupid enough to believe that the sneaking, conniving snake had ever had any feelings for her? It was so obvious that he was playing her for a fool and she, gullible idiot that she was, was so eager to believe that she was attractive to more than one person that she had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

As Hermione lay there, misery washing over her again and again like waves upon a shore, she remembered how Draco had tried so hard to convince her that she should be with him; how genuine and sincere he had seemed in his desire for her, with those kisses that took her breath away and his sweet and poetic words as he tried to coerce her into something more. She remembered, too, what had happened between them at Christmas, and the feeling of violation and betrayal hit her stronger than ever.

Feeling suddenly disgusted at his abuse, Hermione curled into a little ball. Why had she let him touch her that way? Even though she had thought it was Ron she should still have said no. It didn’t matter how good it felt or how much enjoyment it had given her at the time; it was still wrong, even with Ron, and even more so now that Draco could use it against her.

Even as Hermione berated herself she could picture Draco with his friends in the Slytherin common room, a snide look on his face as he told them with great relish about how he had so easily tricked her.

Did everyone in Slytherin House already know?

Hermione wasn’t sure but had to assume that so far he hadn’t said anything, otherwise she would have received comments from his friends, even if it was just some lewd joke about what a slut she was to let him do what he had when they weren’t even a couple. And Pansy definitely wouldn’t be happy if she found out. Having said that, Hermione had seen Blaise looking at her more often than usual recently, so maybe he had shared the tale with his best friend at least.

The only thing Hermione could hope was that now Draco was back with Pansy he wouldn’t want to upset his girlfriend by making it common knowledge that he had been more intimate with her than he should have been. He was still a Pure-blood, after all, and with any luck he would be more worried about what his friends and family would think of him than about torturing her. 

Once the crying finally ceased, Hermione left her bed and opened her trunk, retrieving the expensive Valentine card from the bottom. She stared at the stylised heart on the front for a few seconds, feeling the pain rise again as she remembered both what the interior held and the feeling of desire and exultation that had overwhelmed her when she had initially read it.

It was a lie — the whole thing was a lie and there was no point in trying to put a more positive spin on it. Draco had spoken falsely to her and had probably taken great delight in doing so.

Hermione stared at the beautiful card for another few seconds, then tore it into tiny pieces, all her rage at Draco poured into this one small act. She went to throw it in the bin but remembered that she didn’t want anyone else to see it. If one of her friends spotted the pattern they might try to put the card back together, just out of interest, and that would never do. She plunged her hand into the pocket of her robe and deposited the pieces there. She would go far away from here and throw it away, somewhere that no one would accidentally find it and realise what had happened to her.

Now determined to get rid of the card because she could feel it almost burning a hole in her pocket, Hermione left Gryffindor Tower and headed out of the castle and down towards the lake. That was a good enough place to dispose of it. No one would be able to retrieve it from there, or if they did happen to come across a piece that hadn’t dissolved it would be too soggy to save.

Hermione’s anger made her so self-contained, her inner voice still berating her at length for her stupidity while she moped unhappily, that she didn’t notice Draco already at the lake, disconsolately throwing stones into the dark water as he lamented his own fatuousness. It was only when she reached the edge of the jetty and almost bumped into the unhappy Slytherin that she realised he was there.

Instantly her anger with him flared again, the wretchedness Hermione had been feeling only moments before dissolving under the intensity of the blaze. Her expression hardened as she turned to move away, needing only to find some other place away from Draco where she could dispose of his lying card.

But before she could leave, Draco grabbed her arm tightly, pulling her to a stop with a plea on his lips.

* * *

Draco’s expression brightened instantly as he realised Hermione was in his immediate vicinity and, better still, she was alone. Maybe she wasn’t as upset with him as he had thought and had come to find him. But one look at her face, as morose as his, made him realise that this was just wishful thinking.

There was no way Hermione wasn’t going to be angry and hurt at what he had done. That was completely understandable. But maybe she would be willing to give him an opportunity to explain; a chance to make her recognise that he was a total plum who had acted without thinking and was deeply sorry for his actions.

But before he had a chance to say anything, Hermione’s looked hardened and she turned away, clearly intending to depart. Draco, determined to talk to her whatever the cost, grabbed hold of her arm to stop her leaving.

‘Hermione, please don’t go,’ he beseeched. ‘I really want to talk to you.’

Hermione glared at him icily. ‘We haven’t got anything to talk about, Draco. Now, please, let go of my arm.’

Ignoring her request, Draco said, ‘I just want to explain. Just give me a chance.’

‘There’s nothing to explain. I understand completely, and now I know for certain that I was right to keep away from you. It was bad enough that you kept lying to me about wanting to be with me, but to treat Pansy the way you have — I’m surprised that she still wants to be your girlfriend. If it was me, I’d tell you to get lost!’ Hermione shook her arm, trying to shrug him off.

‘Pansy _isn’t_ my girlfriend,’ Draco said.

Hermione snorted disbelievingly. ‘Really? So what was that you were doing with her at breakfast, then? The two of you looked very cosy together with all that cuddling and whispering. You should go back to her, Draco. She was clearly over the moon to be with you, which is more than can be said for me.’

Draco felt a flash of annoyance that he had to fight hard to push down, but it didn’t stop him asking, ‘Why did you want to speak to me?’

Hermione studied him for a couple of seconds before replying. ‘I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. Now let go of my arm. I don’t want to spend any more time with you.’

‘You’re a liar,’ Draco growled, his anger getting the better of him. ‘You came over to the Slytherin table because you wanted me to go with you so we could talk — admit it.’ He shook her arm and Hermione tried again to pull away.

‘I never want to talk to _you_ ever again,’ Hermione said, her eyes flashing with anger. ‘Now let go of me, otherwise I’m going to hex you.’

Draco was the one to snort this time. ‘Where’s your wand, then, Hermione? You’re not going to hex me, but you are going to listen to me.’

Hermione’s wand was in the robe pocket on the side of the arm that Draco was holding onto so tightly, and so wasn’t easily accessible. She tried to debate whether she could retrieve it with her other hand, but with Draco still holding onto her wand arm she wasn’t going to be able to use it anyway. And Draco could easily hex her first. She scowled.

‘Let go of my arm.’

‘If I let go will you talk to me?’ Draco asked, forcing himself to sound reasonable although he was feeling anything but right at that moment.

Eventually, Hermione issued a grudging ‘Yes’ but she didn’t stop glaring at him, annoyed at his forcing her into a conversation she didn’t want.

‘All right, what do you want to tell me?’ she growled, taking a step back from Draco as he finally released her arm.

‘I want to apologise for being a complete idiot,’ Draco said.

‘You’ve always been an idiot — what makes today any different?’ Hermione retorted.

Draco clenched his fists, trying to remain calm.

‘I was annoyed with you for not talking to me, for not admitting that you fancy me,’ he said.

‘I don’t—’

Draco growled in frustration. ‘You’re lying again. Of course you do; we’ve already established that, however much you try to deny it. I just don’t understand why you won’t accept the truth.’

‘The truth. What would you know about the truth?’ Hermione screeched. ‘You tell me you’re in love with me when that’s obviously complete rubbish. You tell me that you and Pansy aren’t a couple when it’s quite clear that you are, and then you have the gall to accuse _me_ of not telling the truth. You’ve got a bloody cheek, Draco, and I don’t know why I’m even talking to you still.’

‘Because you know I’m right, really,’ Draco said, unable to stop himself from having a sly dig. ‘Regardless of anything that’s happened you fancy me, Hermione, and that’s why you’re so pissed off with me. If you didn’t fancy me you wouldn’t care about anything I do or who I do it with.’

Hermione shook her head in disgust. ‘You really are such an egotist.’

‘And you know I’m right,’ Draco shot back. ‘So let’s just stop being stroppy with each other and talk things out, eh?’

He moved a step closer. Hermione took a step back. Draco sighed, then raised his hands in supplication.

‘Look, I’ll admit I was being an idiot this morning, and I’m really sorry. I was pissed off at having to wait so long for you to come and talk to me and I lost control of my temper. It wasn’t fair to you nor was it fair on poor Pansy — whatever you like to think she is _not_ my girlfriend and never has been. I was just trying to wind you up and it worked too well. Then again, it wasn’t fair of you to make me wait either. When did you split up with the Weasel? A fortnight ago at least, wasn’t it?’

Hermione reddened at this accusation but didn’t soften her stance at all. ‘You were winding me up? How could you do that to Pansy? You know how much she fancies you. That’s really mean Draco.’

‘I’ve already admitted it was a mistake and I’m going to apologise to Pansy later, I promise I will. But to be honest I don’t really care about her, Hermione. It’s you I’m interested in. You’re the one I want to be with. Think of it as a stupid April Fool’s prank that went disastrously wrong, and then forgive me . . . please?’

‘Why should I forgive you? This morning’s stunt has done nothing but prove I was right not to want to get involved with you in the first place. I’m just glad you showed your true colours before I did something stupid. I could have ended up making a real fool of myself,’ Hermione told him.

‘How were you going to make a fool of yourself?’ Draco asked hotly. ‘It wasn’t like you were going to declare your undying love for me at the table, was it? You were just going to get me to go somewhere deserted so we could have what would no doubt turn out to be another pointless discussion.

‘You keep accusing me of not being in love with you because I only kiss you when we’re alone, but let’s face it, you’re the one who’s trying to keep it all secret, Hermione. I told you before that I’d be more than happy to let everyone in the school know how I feel about you and I still mean that. I never did anything before because of your boyfriend, but I love you — and now that Weasley’s out of the way you can stop pretending and admit that you have feelings for me, too.’

Hermione scowled. ‘Why would I do that when I know you’d just use it to embarrass me? I bet you’d have a real laugh with your mates if I was stupid enough to fall for your patter. Today’s given me a reminder of what you’re really like, Draco, and I’m glad I remembered in time.’

‘Hermione, please — I love you,’ Draco said, sounding pained. ‘I’ve never said that to anyone but you before, but it’s true. I really do love you. I want to hold you and kiss you, want to do those things we did at Christmas . . . and more. I want to make love to you. We already know we’re good together so let’s do it — let’s throw caution to the wind and admit we love each other. You’re my Mary and I’ll be your . . . _whatever_.’ He stopped abruptly, realising that he knew nothing about Mary Poppins other than what Hermione had previously told him.

Hermione shook her head. ‘It won’t work, Draco. I don’t trust you and that’s no basis for a relationship. You need to forget about me and go and find some nice Pure-blood girl — there must be one in Slytherin.’ She ignored the scowl Draco gave her at this comment. ‘I told you before that a relationship between us would never work out — it would be too mercurial — and I don’t want a relationship like that.’

‘So why were you coming to see me, then?’ Draco demanded. ‘You’re not with Weasley any longer and you were definitely coming to talk to me. So what were you going to say?’

‘It doesn’t matter now,’ Hermione told him. ‘Whatever it was I’ve changed my mind and I won’t be changing it again.’

Draco’s face fell. ‘Please, Hermione. Don’t do anything rash. I know you’re angry with me at the moment, but once you calm down you’ll change your mind, I know you will. There’s something between us whether you want to admit it or not.’

Hermione stared back at him coldly. ‘There’s nothing between us, Draco, and there never will be. Just leave me alone!’

She pulled the pieces of the Valentine card from the pocket of her robe and threw them at him like confetti. Draco stared at her in surprise not understanding what she was doing or why. Without saying another word, Hermione turned and walked away, back up towards the castle.

Draco caught one of the pieces of parchment she had thrown and looked at it, realising with a sinking heart that it was the Valentine card he had given her. He pulled his wand from his pocket and used it to collect all the pieces, carefully drying the ones that had fallen into the lake, and then put the card back together. He stared at it unhappily for a long time before putting it in his pocket.

* * *

‘I really need you to talk to Draco.’

Hermione turned and stared disdainfully at Blaise Zabini who, it appeared, had just followed her out of the Library.

‘Why on earth would I do that?’ she retorted, wrinkling her nose.

Blaise sighed. ‘Because he’s driving me mad and you’re the only one who can end his current malaise.’ He surveyed her for a moment, then added, ‘You do know he’s convinced he’s in love with you, don’t you, Hermione?’

She looked around worriedly to make sure no one else was in the vicinity to hear their conversation, then shook her head vigorously to dispute Blaise’s assertion.

‘I don’t know what rubbish he’s told you to get you to help him with his scam, Blaise, but I can assure you that Malfoy is definitely _not_ in love with me. He’s just a wind-up merchant who’s going out of his way to make my life a misery, and I don’t need you trying to guilt-trip me into talking to him. If you want to stop him “driving you mad” I suggest you tell him to give up his trolling and turn his attention to sorting out his relationship with Pansy.’

‘Draco doesn’t have a relationship with Pansy, not outside of her mind, anyway,’ Blaise said. ‘You’re the only person he has any interest in, and I’ve never seen him act the way he has since he’s fancied you. I know he can be a bloody idiot — more often than not at the moment, it seems — but I honestly do believe his feelings for you are genuine. If you have even the slightest bit of interest in him in return then you ought to give him a chance.

‘I don’t think you have the first idea of the things he’s prepared to do to be with you, Hermione. Draco’s so desperate for you to be his girlfriend that he’s willing to face ostracism from his friends and family if it will just get him closer to you.

‘Look, I know you’re annoyed with him, and after that stunt he pulled the other day I have every sympathy with you for feeling that way. But please, don’t let one moment of madness on Draco’s part stop the two of you from getting together.’

‘It’s not that easy, though, is it?’ Hermione said miserably. ‘How am I supposed to trust him when he lies all the time? It’s all very well you telling me how you think he feels but I can never get a straight answer from him. Every time I begin to think that maybe he’s telling me the truth and I finally understand how things stand between us he goes and does something to prove that he was lying all along.’

‘Just give him a chance, Hermione. I know you like him—’

Hermione opened her mouth to contradict his claim, but Blaise raised his hand to stop her and carried on speaking.

‘I can tell you do because his behaviour has upset you so much. For years you’ve fought with each other and it’s never really affected either of you, not really, not past the initial indignation and embarrassment of being criticised. But these days every move Draco makes and everything he says upsets you, and that can only be because you care so deeply about what he feels for you.

‘If you don’t fancy him, why do you care what he does? You always managed to brush it off before so why not now? I’ll tell you why — because you feel the same way about Draco as he feels about you. But because you’re too stubborn to admit it and try to work towards a resolution you’re making both of you unhappy and will continue to do so, until you finally sit down and talk to him properly and tell him the truth.’

‘Not being funny, Blaise, but you’re a Slytherin and a Pure-blood, so I don’t exactly trust your advice either,’ Hermione said waspishly. She was annoyed at being criticised for something that wasn’t even her fault. ‘I know Draco’s your friend but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t played you the same way he keeps trying to play me.’

‘I wonder if it isn’t the other way round,’ Blaise said.

Hermione shot him a filthy look. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You haven’t exactly been telling Draco the truth, have you?’

‘Of course I have. I’m not a liar.’ Hermione glared at the Slytherin boy although there was a sudden hollow feeling in her stomach.

‘Really?’ Blaise sounded and looked sceptical. ‘Draco told me you had been going out with Weasley for ages, but I didn’t believe him. There was nothing between the two of you to indicate that you were anything more than friends, whatever you might have told him. I was really surprised when he kissed you on Valentine’s Day. After that you did seem a bit closer, I’ll admit, but still not what I would have expected from a couple who were supposedly happy in a long-term relationship. Then you split up with him, but you still didn’t make any effort to talk to Draco, even though you were well aware of his feelings for you.’

Hermione, surprised at Blaise’s perceptiveness, forced herself to stay calm. ‘My relationship with Ronald was complicated,’ she said, a frown crossing her face.

‘I’d have said it was pretty much non-existent until Valentine’s Day, which from what little Draco’s told me was several months after he first told you that he wanted to be your boyfriend.’

‘That’s not—’ Hermione began.

‘Oh, I know you _told_ Draco that you and Weasley were a couple, but it wasn’t true, was it?’

Hermione writhed uncomfortably under Blaise’s piercing gaze. She could feel herself blushing as she remembered how she had mistakenly thought Ron was the one she had spent time with at the Christmas party; when it had been Draco all along. She knew her whole relationship with Ron had stemmed from that misapprehension. However much she wished it weren’t true the Slytherin was right, and he was right that she had lied, too.

‘You know I’m right,’ Blaise said. His voice was quieter and more conciliatory now.

Hermione sighed. ‘What was I supposed to do? Ever since we started at Hogwarts Draco’s never been anything other than mean to me. Suddenly he’s telling me he’s in love with me — how was I supposed to believe that? Anyway, I really did have a thing for Ron at the time so I just hinted that things were more serious between us than they actually were. It wasn’t a lie exactly, more a case of wishful thinking on my part, and then we really did become a couple.’

‘And when the two of you split up? Why didn’t you talk to Draco then? He’s not stupid, you know. He did realise. That’s why he ended up getting so annoyed and acted idiotically,’ Blaise said.

Hermione gave another sigh. ‘Honestly? Because I still didn’t trust him. He’s never made a single attempt to talk to me except for when we’re alone, apart from calling me names and being horrible to me. How is that supposed to reassure me that he really wants to be my boyfriend? I was convinced it was a wind-up and that if I actually fell for the rubbish he was spouting I’d soon find myself being ridiculed by you and the rest of his friends. Why would I set myself up for that, especially when every time I considered giving him a chance he would do or say something that proved he was lying?’

‘You do know all that business with Pansy at the breakfast table that day was him being a brain-dead idiot, don’t you?’ Blaise asked. ‘I had a real go at him about it afterwards because it wasn’t fair on either of you, what he did. He said it was an April Fool’s prank but I pointed out that it was extremely ill-judged.’

‘But that doesn’t make any difference. There’s still no reason for me to talk to Draco,’ Hermione said. ‘Nothing’s changed. He’s still just as untrustworthy as ever.’

‘And miserable as sin because you won’t talk to him.’ Blaise pointed out.

Hermione shrugged. ‘That’s not my fault. I told him I wasn’t interested. I can’t help it if he won’t listen to me.’

‘But that’s another lie, isn’t it?’ Blaise said. ‘It’s obvious you fancy him, Hermione, and Draco knows it and can’t understand why you don’t do something about it. You need to talk to him and sort this thing out once and for all.’

‘There’s no point. I told you, I don’t trust him and I don’t want to spend my life creeping around trying to keep out of sight of the rest of the school. For all his bluster, Draco’s already made it clear that he won’t do anything to threaten his illustrious position in Slytherin.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I don’t want to talk about this any longer — not to you or to Draco.’

Upset, Hermione started to walk away but Blaise caught hold of her arm and pulled her to a stop.

‘So what were you intending to do the other morning?’ he asked quietly. ‘You did want to talk to Draco then, didn’t you?’

Hermione stared at him unhappily. ‘It doesn’t matter now. I had a few seconds of faulty judgement, but Draco’s behaviour reminded me what a mistake I was about to make.’

‘So we’re back to the Pansy thing again,’ Blaise said, sounding frustrated. ‘I’ve just told you why he did it. Gods, if you’d just talk to him you could sort all this out.’

‘And as I said, there’s nothing to sort.’ Hermione’s voice was colder now.

‘I don’t believe for one minute that you’ve stopped fancying him. In fact, your behaviour indicates the exact opposite. So for Merlin’s sake, stop being so bloody obstinate and talk to Draco . . . just to clear the air if nothing else.’ Blaise’s voice had risen along with his frustration at Hermione’s stubbornness.

She looked mutinous but didn’t say anything.

Blaise dropped her arm and sighed. More quietly he pleaded, ‘Please, Hermione. I’m not saying you need to go out with him, not if you really don’t want to. But at least give him a chance to explain his side of things.’

‘We’ve already been there and done that,’ Hermione said. ‘It didn’t do any good, so I don’t see any point in wasting time trying again.’

‘Except that you’re both single now,’ Blaise pointed out. ‘That makes a huge difference.’

‘I don’t see why,’ Hermione said.

Blaise shook his head as he sighed again. ‘And now you’re being purposely obtuse. You know, you and Draco are as bad as each other — I actually think you deserve one another.’

‘I’m nothing like Draco,’ Hermione retorted, glaring at him.

Blaise chuckled knowingly. ‘You’re actually more alike than I’d realised. You’re both headstrong and bloody frustrating, both of you always convinced you’re right despite _all _evidence to the contrary. You’ve just spent the last five minutes accusing Draco of trying to keep any interaction between you a secret, which you feel proves that he’s lying to you, when all I ever hear from him is that you won’t let him express his feelings in public, that you shy away at the first mention of it.

‘Believe you me, Hermione, Draco is every bit as eager to give you a kiss in the Great Hall as Weasley was — more so, I would have thought, having seen how lacklustre the Weasel’s desire for you was. I know this because I’ve had to stop him a couple of times. Would a show of affection that public finally satisfy you, do you think? Or would you finally have to face up to the fact that you’re scared to admit to your feelings and are throwing it back on Draco just to justify your own unreasonable behaviour and make yourself feel better?’

Hermione stared at Blaise open-mouthed, feeling as if she had just been slapped.

‘Sorry,’ he said, realising he might have overdone it a little. He rubbed the back of his neck as he gave her a rueful smile. ‘I was a bit blunt then, but the question still stands. Is it your own feelings that you’re scared of?’

‘I just can’t believe he’s in love with me,’ Hermione said quietly.

‘He is, though,’ Blaise replied.

‘But the public thing, it’s not possible,’ Hermione said.

Blaise shrugged. ‘Draco thinks it is. He honestly doesn’t care what anyone else thinks of him as long as he’s with you. Please, Hermione, give him a chance.’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Blaise but I can’t. I hear what you’re saying but it doesn’t mesh with the boy I’ve known for six years. I don’t trust him and I’m not willing to put myself in the position of being humiliated by him. He’s tried that more than enough times over the years already. Now I really have to go or I’m going to be late for Ancient Runes.’

‘Draco asked me to give you this as you won’t talk to him,’ Blaise said. He opened his bag and pulled out a large box. He passed it to Hermione, who looked at the beautifully decorated and quite clearly expensive chocolate Easter egg in surprise. 

‘He’s not lying and he’s not winding you up,’ Blaise said solemnly as he looked Hermione straight in the eyes, willing her to see he was being sincere on his friend’s behalf. ‘I honestly do believe Draco is in love with you and I think if you give him a chance to prove it he’ll be more than equal to the task.’

‘I need to go,’ Hermione repeated. The whole conversation had shaken her and she wanted nothing more than to be away from Blaise, whose percipience was unnerving.

‘Just think about it,’ Blaise shouted after her as she hurried away from him, heading towards her next lesson. ‘You owe him that much.’


	6. Birthday

Hermione was in turmoil and she knew it was affecting her relationships with everyone. Her annoyance that Draco had used Blaise to fight his battles for him had spilt across into the rest of her life and she was prickly and terse. Harry and Ron, who had no idea why she was suddenly being so grumpy, distanced themselves from her whenever possible, and Neville was the only one in their year who willingly tried to make conversation with her; the mild-mannered boy was seemingly impervious to her scowling and brush-offs.

Ginny had made an attempt to find out what was wrong in case it was something to do with her brother, but Hermione had battened down the hatches, refusing to admit there was even a problem. In the end Ginny had given up too, figuring that whatever it was would sort itself out eventually and that if her friend needed help, she would ask for it.

Draco hadn’t tried to talk to her since their argument at the lake, nor had Blaise or any of his other friends come to appeal on his behalf, for which Hermione was grateful. But she was aware of both Draco and Blaise watching her wherever she went, and that was almost as bad. She was particularly upset at how astutely Blaise had picked up on her feelings for Draco as if they were blatant — out there for everyone to see — but she was sure they weren’t otherwise Ginny, if not Harry and Ron, would have said something to her about it by now.

She supposed that Draco must have spoken to Pansy as she wore a permanently morose expression now, her mood seemingly as glum as Hermione’s. If it weren’t so tragic Hermione would have laughed, but that was unfair to the Slytherin girl, who she had never liked but now couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for.

The dark-haired girl was as in love with Draco as Hermione had once been with Ron, but with one conversation all Pansy’s hopes had been forever dashed. Hermione was willing to bet that she hadn’t been mentioned though, otherwise she was sure she would have heard all about it from Pansy and the crew of bitchy girls she went around with, so Draco was still keeping his so-called desire for her a secret.

Part of her expected it, reminding herself that she could expect nothing less from the lying, cheating Slytherin, whatever he may be telling her and his best friend. But part of her was reminded of what Blaise had said to her about the problem being hers, not Draco’s. As much as she hated to admit it, Hermione knew there was more than a grain of truth to his accusation — but only because she didn’t trust Draco. 

Unfortunately, Blaise was also right that they were both unhappy and would probably remain so until things were finally sorted between them one way or another.

The problem was that despite everything that had happened, Hermione still burned for Draco. It was intensely frustrating, but her heart raced and her blood tingled whenever she saw him, that swirly feeling in her stomach making her anxious but also lightheaded. But overshadowing it all were the trust issues, which meant she couldn’t bring herself to engage in a relationship with him, even if Draco did purportedly feel the same way.

Hermione could talk to him, though, could end the silence she had imposed and then maybe things could be sorted out once and for all. If only she could get Draco to tell her the truth, to admit that he was just toying with her, then she could put this stupid infatuation behind her and get on with her revision as she so desperately needed to do.

* * *

Draco was waiting for Hermione as she left the Ancient Runes classroom, one of the two lessons they shared that her ever-clingy friends didn’t. He blocked the corridor, giving her no chance to move more than about ten feet outside the door.

Hermione bristled at the realisation that Draco had got the jump on her, forcing a conversation between them before she was ready to talk, and initially tried to barge past him without saying a word. But Draco quietly but firmly took hold of her arm to stop her.

‘I’ve got a lesson to get to,’ she said tartly.

Draco shook his head, looking amused. ‘I know your timetable, remember? You’ve got a free period next and then we’ve both got Transfiguration; plenty of time for us to talk.’

Hermione scowled, about to argue, then decided that they might as well get it over and done with. So what if Draco had been the one to initiate contact; she had been intending to talk to him, so now was as good a time as any.

As pupils from the incoming class filled the corridor, Draco pulled her into one of the alcoves, using the opportunity to press against her, his other arm wrapped around her waist.

‘I’ve missed you so much, Hermione,’ he told her honestly, then before she could do anything to stop him, he kissed her.

Hermione kissed him back, her arms wrapped around Draco every bit as tightly, but then she remembered herself and pushed him away.

‘You want to talk, so talk,’ she said, keeping her voice cold.

Draco stared at her for a moment. ‘I preferred the kissing, actually. Can we go back to that?’

Annoyed, Hermione shook her head, a scowl on her face. ‘No. I’m not kissing you again, Draco. Now either talk or I’m leaving.’

She started to pull away, ready to leave the alcove, but Draco took her arm once more.

‘Okay, sorry, I was trying to lighten the mood a bit. You always seem so serious recently.’

‘I’ve got a lot to do and wasting time chatting doesn’t get it done,’ Hermione retorted. 

‘What have you got to do? It’s a Bank Holiday this weekend, so we’ve got a few days off,’ Draco reminded her.

‘Exactly, it’s Whitsun, so we haven’t got much time left before our exams start.’ 

Draco gave a soft snort and rolled his eyes. ‘Plenty of time to worry about those later. Anyway, I don’t know why you’re panicking, you’re going to pass all the exams with flying colours.’

‘Not if I don’t get my revision completed,’ Hermione grumbled.

Draco shook his head. ‘You worry too much, Hermione. You’re the best in the school. I’m pretty sure you could pass all your exams now, without any further revision. So stop panicking and just chill for a bit.’

‘That’s easy for you to say. You don’t really care about your exams, do you?’ Hermione said.

Draco frowned. ‘What does that mean?’

‘I heard your friends Crabbe and Goyle chatting the other day. They were talking about You-Know-Who taking over and how none of you will need to worry about exams when you’re all working for him.’

Draco sighed expressively. ‘I wouldn’t listen to those two. They’re a pair of idiots who are unlikely to pass a single exam between them, so of course they’re interested in an outcome that means they don’t have to take them. But unlike them, I want to get a decent mark in my exams. There wouldn’t be any point in me staying at school otherwise.’

Hermione looked unconvinced.

‘Regardless of what you think, I have no desire to be a Death Eater,’ Draco insisted. ‘How could I be one when I’m in love with you?’

‘You are _not_ in love with me,’ Hermione said wearily.

‘Yes, I am. And the sooner you accept it, the sooner we can sort things out,’ Draco said.

‘I can’t keep doing this,’ Hermione told him.

‘Good, because I’m getting tired of having the same old argument. So let’s start again, but this time let’s just take it as read that I’m in love with you, and that you have feelings for me in return.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Hermione said, shaking her head dismissively.

‘I don’t see why. Both of those things are true, you’re just too chicken to admit it.’ Draco’s tone was slightly colder now, the playfulness completely gone.

‘Even if it’s true — and I’m not saying it is — there still remains the problem that I don’t trust you,’ Hermione retorted.

‘And how am I supposed to build trust if you won’t give me a chance?’ Draco sighed deeply. ‘Look, Hermione, how about we start again — right from the beginning — we write off everything that’s gone before and start from the position that we both like each other and are willing to give a relationship a try? You give me a chance and I’ll prove to you that I’m not just leading you on.’

Hermione stared at him sadly as she shook her head.

‘I’m sorry, Draco, but I can’t. There are too many years of bad feeling to brush it away as if nothing happened. I think it’s best for both of us if we start again, but not together. You should get on with your life and forget about me, and I’ll do the same.’

‘But I honestly think if we try, we can make it work,’ Draco said. ‘Please don’t give up on us.’

‘There is no _us_,’ Hermione told him in frustration. ‘Please don’t talk to me again, Draco. I don’t have anything else to say to you nor do I want to keep reliving the same old argument again and again.’

She pushed him out of the way and went to leave the alcove.

‘You can’t mean that,’ Draco said unhappily.

He went to grab Hermione’s arm, but she brushed him away and kept walking, praying that Draco wasn’t going to follow her and see the tears that were now in her eyes.

* * *

‘Is there something going on between you and Malfoy?’ Harry asked.

He and Hermione were sitting on one of the sofas in the Gryffindor common room. She was trying but failing to do some Arithmancy revision. She put down her book and stared at him in surprise for a moment, then looked around to see where Ron had got to. This definitely wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have with him around, particularly if she wanted it to stay civil. Fortunately, he was busy chatting to Seamus and Dean and was taking no notice of her and Harry.

‘Why would you ask that?’ she asked.

‘Because you’re both as miserable as sin all the time, and you seem to spend most of your time trying to avoid each other — and quite visibly, too. So either the two of you are knocking each other off and are making a terrible attempt to pretend you’re not, or you were and you’ve split up and are determined to make everyone else’s life a misery by drawing us into your shenanigans.’

‘Or three, where actually neither of the previous two explanations is the case,’ Hermione retorted stiffly.

‘In that case, perhaps you ought to think about getting together with Malfoy and doing us all a favour,’ Harry said with a grin. ‘You’d both be less miserable and we wouldn’t have to put up with you being so bloody moody all the time.’

‘Is that honestly your best advice, Harry? Go out with Draco Malfoy?’ Hermione asked in disgust.

Harry shrugged. ‘Well, you never stop looking at each other, even when you’re doing the avoiding thing. It’s crazy really. It’s quite clear you fancy each other, so maybe you ought to give it a try. Are you keeping away from him because you’re worried about what Ron will say?’

‘Malfoy has been our enemy for years—’

Before she could finish, Harry replied, ‘True. But we’re growing up and people change, Hermione. None of us is the same as we were when we started at Hogwarts. If there’s a chance to end a feud we should take it, even if it’s with Malfoy. I wouldn’t worry too hard about Ron. He’ll be grumpy at first, but then he would be with anyone you go out with. He might not be interested in you romantically, but you’re like a sister to him — and you remember how he acted with Ginny when she started getting boyfriends.’

‘I honestly can’t believe you’re suggesting I go out with Draco,’ Hermione said.

‘It’s a bit of a surprise to me too, to be honest. But although I hate to admit it, I have to say that I think you’re probably made for each other. You’re both intelligent and good at magic . . . and both a bit up your own arse at times. He’s the perfect foil for you, Hermione. I know he was a bit of a cock with all the blood status crap, but he’s really quietened down on all that Pureblood stuff of late, and I think it’s because he realised he fancies you.’

‘But I wouldn’t be able to trust him,’ Hermione said, finally opening up a little to her best friend. ‘What if he was only doing it so he could use it against me? I don’t need that sort of trouble.’

‘I dunno. I get the feeling that he’s grown out of all that troublemaking. I think he’s looking for a quieter life and trying to work out his place in the world before Voldemort comes back.’

‘He’s a Malfoy, so we already know which side he’s going to be on,’ Hermione said more bitterly than she had intended.

Harry studied her interestedly for a moment before replying, ‘I’m not sure that’s true, Hermione. I don’t think it would take much to turn him. I think he just needs a reason.’

‘What, and you think I could be that reason?’ Hermione sniffed in annoyance. ‘Are you trying to build an army, Harry? ’Cos if so you go and tempt Malfoy on your own. Don’t put me forward as a bloody sacrifice.’

‘I’m not saying that. I’m just—’ Harry stopped for a moment, seeming unsure what to say. ‘Look. I’m just saying that it seems like something’s going on between the two of you — or there could be. You just need to give him a chance.’

Hermione looked at Harry, eyes narrowed, as realisation dawned.

‘Have you been talking to Blaise Zabini by any chance?’

‘We did have a conversation after Divination the other day,’ Harry admitted, looking a touch guilty.

‘And I suppose he told you that Draco and I are some sort of star-crossed lovers who are both too stubborn to sort out our problems on our own, so you should have a quiet word with me in hopes that I’ll listen to you?’

‘Hmmm, well, that’s basically the gist of what he said, although I think the stubborn thing was more related to you rather than Malfoy, to be honest.’ Hermione’s eyes flashed with anger at this comment. Before she could bite his head off, Harry added, ‘I thought Zabini made a lot of sense with what he was saying actually — it certainly explains your behaviour over the last few months. It’s quite obvious when you look at him that Malfoy is unhappy because you won’t go out with him, and I can only assume you’re so bloody moody because you’re _not_ going out with him.’

‘Why doesn’t anyone understand that I can’t trust him because he lies all the time?’

Harry made a noise that could have been a snort. ‘Yeah, Zabini told me about the thing with Pansy. A bit ill-judged under the circumstances and the timing was unfortunate, but I think you’re being too harsh on Malfoy, especially if he really does like you.’

Hermione rolled her eyes. ‘Not you as well. Is this some sort of male conspiracy or something? I can’t believe you’re siding with Draco.’

‘I’m not on anyone’s side,’ Harry said honestly. ‘I just see a friend of mine who’s really unhappy and has been that way for months, and I want to help you to smile again. Let’s face it, Hermione, you haven’t been yourself all year, not even when you were going out with Ron . . . although I admit he was a pretty lousy as a boyfriend so that’s not really surprising. But if Malfoy can make you happy—’

‘But I don’t think he can,’ Hermione broke in. She sighed. ‘It’s true that I like him, Harry. But I just don’t see us as a couple, and even if we were, it would be too tempestuous.’

‘Maybe you need something like that,’ Harry suggested gently. ‘A bit of excitement can be good sometimes.’

‘Not when we’re only a month or so away from our N.E.W.T.s,’ Hermione said. ‘I don’t have time for all that. And as I said, I don’t trust him, and that’s all there is to it.’

‘Just—’

‘Don’t tell me to think about it,’ Hermione said crossly. ‘I’ve done nothing but think about it for the last seven months, and the answer is still no. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed.’

She picked up her books, angrily shoving them back into her bag.

‘Hermione, don’t go. I’m sorry, I won’t mention it again.’

‘I’m tired anyway,’ Hermione said. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

Harry watched as Hermione crossed the common room heading for the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Zabini had been absolutely right in his assessment of the situation, but knowing how stubborn Hermione was when she set her mind on something, he doubted he would be able to do anything to assist the Slytherin in helping Malfoy.

Then again, Harry still wasn’t sure he wanted to help Malfoy anyway. There had been no love lost between him and the blond Slytherin over the years either, and he only had Zabini’s word for it that Malfoy had changed so radically, although being fair, the blond boy’s eternally dour expression and his ever-constant watch on Hermione pointed to what Zabini had said about him being true.

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. Perhaps he should go to bed too. Ginny was off with friends this evening and he could probably do with a good sleep, especially if Hermione was going to insist on them all hitting the books in the morning.

‘Where did Hermione go? I was hoping she’d help me with some revision tonight. I thought if I got it out of the way early she’d be pleased,’ Ron said as he plonked himself down on the sofa next to Harry.

‘She’s gone to bed. She was feeling tired. I wouldn’t worry about it though, I’m sure we’ll be revising in the morning. Knowing Hermione, she’s already got a full day planned out for us.’

Ron groaned loudly. ‘I was really hoping she would go easy on us this weekend. Let’s face it, it would be a nightmare to waste our last Bank Holiday on school work, especially when that’s all we’re going to be doing for the rest of the term. Do you think she’s going to want us to revise all weekend?’

‘Yes,’ Harry replied sombrely. ‘And she’s in a really foul mood at the moment too, so I don’t think she’s going to be very understanding about wanting time off. I think we’ll get an ear-bending if we even suggest taking a break for a few hours.’

‘Hermione’s been in a bad mood since we split up,’ Ron said, scowling. He thought about it for a moment, frowned, then added, ‘Do you think that’s why she’s been so grumpy? Because we split up, I mean?’

Harry shook his head. ‘Nope. I think you two splitting up was for the best. You’re much better off as mates. I think Hermione’s problems lie elsewhere, and until she sorts herself out we’re all going to suffer.’

‘Can we help to her sort herself out?’ Ron asked hopefully.

Harry sighed. ‘That’s just it, Ron. I’m not sure there’s any helping Hermione. Unfortunately, she needs to realise she’s being unreasonable on her own, and knowing what she’s like that’s not likely to happen anytime in the near future.’

Ron frowned again. ‘Are we talking about something specific here?’

Harry considered how best to answer, knowing that Ron wouldn’t be at all happy about a relationship between Hermione and Malfoy, however unlikely it seemed at the moment. His friend would need to know at some point, but that could wait until the couple sorted themselves out — if they ever did.

‘No, not really. I just think she’s got a few things she needs to make a decision on, and we can’t help her with that. I think I’m going to go to bed too. I expect Hermione will want to make an early start.’

‘Yeah, I suppose we might as well get an early night, all the better for revising in the morning,’ Ron said, sounding disgruntled.

* * *

‘How’s the revision going, Hermione?’

Hermione looked up to see Blaise standing next to her. She rubbed her tired eyes and sighed, then stretched to get a kink out of her back.

‘Neverending. I’m not sure I’m going to get it all done in time for the exams. How’s yours going?’

Blaise shrugged and took the seat next to her. ‘Not bad, actually, although I suspect I haven’t set anywhere near as punishing a schedule as you have.’ He paused for a moment then said, ‘Do you think you might be overdoing the revision a bit? I’m sure I heard somewhere that doing too much is worse than doing too little. You overstuff your brain with facts and eventually it rebels and refuses to remember anything and just causes more stress.’

Hermione snorted. ‘That sounds exactly like the woolly sort of logic Ronald would come up with to get out of studying. I’ll be fine as long as I’m given a chance to get on with it.’ She scowled. ‘And that reminds me, stop talking to my friends about me and Draco. Filling their heads full of stupid ideas isn’t going to make me any more inclined to talk to him.’

‘So what will? There must be something,’ Blaise said.

Hermione was about to automatically say no when a sudden thought flittered into her mind. Instead, she studied the Slytherin for several long seconds while she debated whether to take the chance and ask him to help her. Eventually, she sighed loudly and said, ‘All right. If you really want me to talk to Draco then you need to find out what the ghosts said to him.’

Blaise looked confused. ‘Ghosts. What ghosts?’

‘The ghosts in the Shrieking Shack.’ When Blaise continued to look bemused, she added, ‘How much has Draco told you about our . . . non-relationship, Blaise? I mean, did he say how long it’s been going on for?’

‘He said something about realising he was in love with you at Halloween last year.’ Blaise frowned. ‘He didn’t really talk in any great depth about what happened to cause it, but he said he suddenly realised that if he couldn’t see you anymore he would be devastated. Why, did something happen at the Shrieking Shack? What were you doing there?’

‘I made a stupid bet with Harry and Ron that I couldn’t spend the night alone there on Halloween. I thought it would be an easy bet to win — there’s absolutely nothing in there normally, so I knew if anything turned up it would have been placed there by them in order to scare me. Afterwards, I found out that they’d planned a whole load of stuff with Ron’s twin brothers, but Lee Jordan, who was supposed to be setting it all up for them, was ill so they didn’t put anything in there.’

‘To be honest, Hermione, I’m not really sure where this is going, or what ghosts have to do with it,’ Blaise said, sounding perplexed.

‘While I was in there, I met three ghosts. They gave me some advice. But I’ve never been able to work out if they were real spirits and what they were telling me was true, or if they were illusions planted by someone to play a trick on me. At first I assumed it had to be Harry and Ron, obviously. But when I found out that they hadn’t done anything, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was Draco instead. He was in the Shrieking Shack that night too, and I still don’t know why he was there. And he told me he saw two of the ghosts. I want to know what they said to him because it might help me work out if they were real or if it was just Draco playing a joke on me.’

‘Draco? But why would you think he was the one playing the joke?’

‘Because it wasn’t Harry and Ron, and there was no reason for Draco to be there — unless he was setting me up for something.’ Hermione sighed. ‘I know I’m grasping at straws here, Blaise, but if Halloween was a set-up by him, then everything else is too.’

‘I don’t think Draco set you up or I’m sure he wouldn’t have been able to keep it quiet from everyone,’ Blaise said honestly. ‘I think he’s genuinely in love with you. What did these ghosts say to you that makes you so interested in what they said to him?’

Hermione frowned, her eyes not meeting Blaise's. ‘I don’t want to say . . . and it’s not important anyway.’

Blaise looked as if he didn’t believe her. ‘I’m not going to tell anyone else about our conversation, Hermione, so you don’t need to worry about anybody finding out. But if you want me to discover what, if anything, these ghosts told Draco, I need to know what they said to you.’

‘I don’t see why. We’re only interested in what they told Draco.’

‘So humour me. Call it the price for getting my help,’ Blaise said.

Hermione bit her bottom lip anxiously. ‘It was a ludicrous thing. But if I tell you this, you must promise not to tell anyone, especially not Draco—’ She pinched her lips together as if tasting something sour. ‘Although if it was a set-up he already knows anyway.’

Blaise sighed. ‘I already said I wouldn’t, but all right, I promise.’

Hermione stared at him, so Blaise crossed his heart to confirm he meant what he had said. She looked up at the ceiling for a moment as if drawing strength then took a deep breath.

‘They told me I was in danger and that my life depended on finding my true love. When I asked who that was, they said he was the next man I’d meet. As I said, it was ridiculous.’

‘And I assume the next man you met was Draco?’ Blaise asked.

Hermione nodded.

Blaise thought for a moment. ‘Okay, well I can see why you think it might be a set-up. I agree it sounds pretty corny. But what about the danger they warned you about?’

‘It was real,’ Hermione admitted quietly. ‘Two hags had broken into the shack without me realising.’

Blaise looked shocked. ‘Hags? But they’re cannibals. They eat—’

‘Girls. Yes, I know. And to be honest, if it weren’t for Draco I’d be dead. He stopped them from attacking me, then helped to get rid of them permanently.’

Blaise studied her for a moment. ‘So you’re saying that the ghosts were right. You found your true love and your life was saved.’

‘Yes. Except that my true love turned out to be the person who’s detested me for the last six years and has always taken every opportunity to get me into trouble or embarrass me,’ Hermione said.

‘However, in this instance he saved your life and since then has been declaring undying love for you at every available opportunity,’ Blaise pointed out.

‘But if this was all a set-up—' Hermione sounded frustrated now.

‘Hmmm. Okay, so I can understand why you’re sceptical although to be honest, Hermione, it sounds far too complicated for Draco to have arranged, especially without any help, and that would have made it pretty difficult to keep quiet about. If he’d done it to embarrass you or whatever the whole school would have heard about it by now, especially if he saved your life in the process. Let’s face it, Draco’s never been one to hide his light under a bushel and the fact he’s done so this time points towards it being real rather than anything else. But I still don’t understand how knowing what the ghosts said to Draco will help you to work out whether they were real or not.’ 

‘I just thought that if I knew what they said—’ Hermione stopped speaking, trying to get her thoughts in order.

‘The problem is that it doesn’t really matter what they said, does it?’ Blaise asked.

Hermione frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You’ve convinced yourself that Draco’s a liar, so you don’t believe anything he tells you, even when he’s telling the truth. I think you’ve latched onto this Halloween ghost thing as yet another way to prove to yourself that Draco’s lying, so anything I tell you you’re not going to believe anyway. I’ve already told you that Draco is serious about you and that everything he’s told you is genuine, and having discussed it with Potter he agrees with me, but you _still _won’t consider the possibility that it’s true. So what do you think is going to happen when I tell you that the ghosts told Draco that you’re his true love?’

‘But that’s why I’m saying that if it’s a set-up—’ Hermione began desperately.

‘And I’m already telling you that it isn’t,’ Blaise insisted, trying hard not to lose his temper with the headstrong girl. ‘You need to stop trying to find ways to make Draco the villain because he isn’t, especially if what you just told me about him saving your life is true. In that case he’s a bloody hero and you’re treating him terribly just because you’re too scared to take a chance.’ He sighed, then added more calmly, ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to have a go at you again, but this is getting ridiculous now. I’ll tell you what, I’ll talk to Draco and find out what the ghosts told him and then I’ll tell you. But in exchange you need to promise me that if I find out what they said you’ll talk to Draco and you’ll give him the chance he wants.’

‘But—’

‘I don’t want to hear about how you don’t trust him, Hermione. We already know that. But you’re not giving him a chance to prove himself and that’s not fair . . . to either of you. I honestly believe that Draco is in love with you but if you give him the opportunity to express himself to you and he has pulled the wool over all our eyes then I’ll give him a good hiding myself, although I suspect I’d have to fight off Potter and Weasley for the privilege of being the first to thump him.’ He grinned for a moment, but then returned to looking serious. ‘Do you agree?’

Hermione stared at him, trying to decide what to say. Once again Blaise had understood her far too well for her liking and had backed her into a corner where she had no choice but to agree if she wanted to know what the ghosts had said to Draco. But what if it turned out they hadn’t said anything, or at least nothing about her? Could she then renege on her agreement to give Draco a chance?

‘All right,’ she said unhappily. ‘If you find out what the ghosts said, I’ll talk to Draco.’

‘You’ll go on a date with him,’ Blaise said.

Hermione looked pained.

Ignoring the look, he continued. ‘It’s just one date. By the end of it you should be able to establish exactly how Draco really feels about you.’

Remembrance of the time they had spent together at Christmas and on Valentine’s day flitted into Hermione’s mind. The problem was that Draco was so convincing when they were alone together. That was why she was in this state in the first place.

‘I don’t know why you’re prevaricating over this. I would have thought it would sort everything out,’ Blaise said. ‘You keep telling me that Draco’s lying because he’s intent on keeping the relationship a secret, so a date would sort that out because it will be public. If he’s not interested in doing that, then you’ll know for certain. But if he’s up for it—’

‘Okay, I get the point,’ Hermione said shortly. ‘Fine. If you get the information I want I’ll go on a date with him and then we’ll see who’s right.’

‘Finally!’ Blaise sounded relieved. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. I’m sure you want to get back to revising.’

‘Oh, and the date will have to be after the exams,’ Hermione said.

Blaise was about to argue but then realised that if he pushed it too far Hermione might change her mind completely and he would be back to square one.

‘Okay. But I’m not going to let you weasel out of it. You will be going on that date.’

‘You don’t know yet that Draco’s going to tell you what the ghosts said,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘And you’re not allowed to tell him about our agreement either.’

‘Of course he’ll tell me. I’m his best friend, and I’ll just keep prodding until he does. And don’t worry, I won’t tell him about you or the date,’ he reassured Hermione. ‘That can be a nice surprise for him when you ask him out.’ 

Hermione glared at him, mouth open, too stunned to say anything.

He grinned at her. ‘I’ll see you later, Hermione. Enjoy your revision.’

Blaise waved as he walked away, leaving Hermione silently cursing both him and the agreement she had just made with him.

* * *

‘I was talking to Hermione about last Halloween earlier,’ Blaise said conversationally as they wandered towards the Slytherin common room.

Draco stopped walking and stared at him in surprise. ‘Really. Why was she telling you about that?’

‘Because I asked her what happened. I was trying to establish what caused your infatuation with her and remembered you’d mentioned previously that it had started around the time of Halloween, so I thought I’d talk to her about it.’

‘Why have you been talking to her behind my back? Didn’t it occur to you to ask me about it instead? I mean, it’s my feelings we’re talking about here and let’s face it, Hermione seems to have absolutely no clue about how I really feel about her,’ Draco snapped.

Blaise sighed. ‘There’s no need to bite my head off, Draco. I’m just trying to help you sort things out with Hermione and I thought talking to her might help; to see things from her perspective. Then, as I’m doing now, I could talk to you about it too and get a more rounded picture of what happened.’

‘Why, is it important?’ Draco asked.

‘It’s when you first started fancying her, so I just wondered what happened to cause it.’ Blaise paused for a moment, then added with a frown, ‘Hermione told me you saved her life — from some hags or something.’ Draco nodded. ‘But I think she thinks you had something to do with why they were there in the first place, so she seems to have convinced herself that everything you’ve done since is just to trick her in some way.’

‘What did she tell you?’ Draco asked. He could feel his temper rising at the thought that Hermione blamed him for the hags.

‘She knew the Shrieking Shack didn’t have anything scary in it, and obviously assumed that anything that appeared that night would be arranged by Potter and Weasley — she told me about the stupid bet she made with them.’

‘It was a ridiculous bet. I don’t know why she took it,’ Draco said.

‘Oh, I don’t know. It should have been an easy enough bet to win. I think we’d probably all have taken it had it been offered.’

‘She put herself in mortal danger for no good reason,’ Draco insisted. ‘And all over some stupid homework.’

‘But Hermione wasn’t expecting any danger, just a few scares provided by her friends,’ Blaise pointed out. ‘And that’s where you come into it. Obviously she wasn’t expecting you to be there — and you shouldn’t have been — so when she discovered that the scares they’d planned were cancelled, it wasn’t really too much of a stretch for Hermione to conclude that anything that did happen was because _you_ arranged it. Why were you there, anyway?’

Ignoring the question as the anger continued to rise, Draco retorted, ‘But I saved her life. How can she acknowledge that and then think it was me that caused the problem in the first place?’

‘I think she’s just confused about everything that happened — both that night and since — and is trying to make sense of it in the way that seems most logical to her, especially considering your history with each other,’ Blaise said. He paused for a moment as if thinking. ‘She said something about some ghosts as well.’

‘Yes, there were three of them, or that’s what Hermione told me. I only saw two of them, though. Of course, I thought they were just illusions created by the Weasley twins although they certainly seemed very realistic, and it was a bit freaky how what they said fitted in with the situation. It was only afterwards, once we found out that the Weasley’s hadn’t done anything to the Shrieking Shack that we realised they must have been as real as the hags were, which made things even weirder still, I suppose.’

‘I’m not sure Hermione’s convinced the ghosts were real. She thinks—’

‘That I put them there?’ Draco growled.

Blaise shrugged. ‘Well, what were you doing there? That’s what I can’t understand.’

‘I overheard Potter and Weasley talking about the bet. I had no idea what it was for, but they seemed pretty confident that Weasley’s brothers were going to scare the shit out of Hermione. I thought I’d go along and watch — I thought it would be funny. And if there was an opportunity for me to scare her at the same time, I’d take it. She definitely wasn’t expecting anyone else to be there.

‘But then I bumped into those bloody ghosts and everything went a bit eerie; it was like I was suddenly part of the story. I was going to go back to the castle and leave Hermione to it because it was freaking me out a bit, I’ll admit — even though I knew it was only an illusion — and then I found the hags. But I couldn’t get Hermione to believe that they were real. I think she thought it was Crabbe and Goyle dressed up or something.’

‘What did the ghosts say to you that freaked you out so much?’ Blaise asked.

Draco looked uncomfortable. ‘Did Hermione talk about them? Did she tell you what they told her?’

Blaise considered how to answer the question. He had promised Hermione that he wouldn’t tell Draco what the ghosts had said to her, but he didn’t feel comfortable lying outright and saying that she hadn’t told him anything. He decided omission of some of the key facts would be his best bet.

‘She said that they told her she was in danger — presumably because of the hags. But she didn’t believe them, or you, until the hags tried to attack, which, I assume, was another reason she thought you planted them.’

Draco nodded as Blaise spoke. ‘That would make sense, especially if they spoke to Hermione first and she ignored their advice. The first ghost told me that Hermione was in danger and I had to help her or she would die. She said I had to see what the threat was so I could warn Hermione and help her escape. That was freaky enough, but when I didn’t go to find Hermione immediately a second ghost appeared and told me that if I let her die it would be the biggest mistake I’d ever make. Obviously I thought it was complete bollocks, and not wanting to be dragged any further into whatever the Weasley twins had planned I decided to go back to the castle.

‘But on the way I found the hags and realised that Hermione really was in danger. I couldn’t just leave her to try to fend them off alone, so when I heard her coming towards me, and them, I tried to warn her. But she didn’t believe me . . . until they came along the corridor and were about to attack her. I had no choice, Blaise, I couldn’t let her die, so I covered her body with mine, hoping it would disguise her scent. It worked and the hags went off to a different part of the shack searching for her. But I couldn’t get her to leave because of that bloody stupid bet. I told her she was mental, but then agreed to help her search for a way to get rid of the hags.’

Draco fell silent for a moment, remembering the events of that night. He looked up at Blaise. ‘When I was on my way to the Library, to look for a book on how to get rid of them, I was terrified Hermione was going to do something stupid like confront the hags on her own and get hurt or killed while I was gone. That was when I realised how much I like her, and that all the arguing over the years was my way of spending time with her — you know my father would have been furious if he’d discovered that I was interested in a Muggle-born.

‘The more I thought about it, the more I realised that I had actually fancied her for a long time and the idea of losing her made me feel physically sick. I suddenly understood what the ghosts saying about Hermione being important to me really meant and that they were absolutely right. So then it occurred to me that if I saved her again, maybe she would be grateful enough to forget about all the shitty things I’d said and done over the years and give me a chance as a boyfriend and that if she did, I wasn’t really bothered whether my father would like it or not because she’s the most important thing in my life.’

He fell silent again, this time for so long that Blaise wondered if he should prompt him in some way, but then, finally, his friend spoke again.

‘Hermione told you that I saved her life, but she saved mine too.’

Blaise stared at Draco in surprise. Hermione had made no mention of this at any point during their conversation.

‘What do you mean, she saved your life?’ he asked.

‘I didn’t think magic worked on hags, but then I found a spell in that book of Lockhart’s. Unfortunately, I was so worried about Hermione that I didn’t have time to practice it properly and the first time I cast it I didn’t do it right. Obviously it enraged them and they attacked me. It was terrifying and bloody painful. Hermione risked her own safety to draw the hags away from me and nearly got caught in the process.

‘Fortunately terror or luck, I’m still not sure which, allowed me to get it right the next time and I got rid of them. But it was such a demanding spell, and casting it three times in quick succession after being attacked, and when I was still bleeding, just about finished me off. Hermione looked after me. She stopped the bleeding and sorted out my wounds, then put me to bed in some moth-eaten old bed upstairs in the shack.

‘—It seemed like an excellent time to try to move things on a bit.’

‘You went to bed with her?’ Blaise sounded stunned.

Draco shook his head and sighed wistfully. ‘Not in the way you’re thinking. I managed to cuddle her and we kissed a bit — quite a lot, actually. It was nice, and I enjoyed it very much. But then, when it was time to leave and I asked if Hermione would be my girlfriend, she told me that she fancied the Weasel.’ His face twisted into an expression of distaste. ‘I was honestly gutted with her response. We had got on so well, at least I thought we had, and I honestly didn’t want to let go of her at all. But even then she was going on about me changing my mind once I was back with my friends, and that we weren’t suited as a couple. Nothing I could say would change her mind, so I had no choice but to back off and let her go.’

‘So she’s been lying to herself and you all this time.’ Blaise sounded surprised. ‘You must think an awful lot of Hermione to keep trying when she’s been nothing but obstructive this whole time. Is it because she saved you that it intensified your feelings for her?’

‘I’m in love with her,’ Draco admitted. ‘I can’t just turn it off because Hermione says she’s not interested. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that. And it isn’t just because she saved me either. That was just one of those things.’

‘But it clearly shows that she cares about you, regardless of what she might actually say.’

Draco shook his head sadly. ‘Hermione made it very clear that had nothing to do with it. She said she would have saved anyone if they were in the same position, that I wasn’t special.’

Blaise snorted. ‘Well, that’s clearly not true. Honestly, can you see Hermione doing what she did for Crabbe or Goyle? Or Pansy, come to that? I don’t think so, do you? She might try to save them, but I don’t believe she would have purposely put herself in danger to do it. And considering what came after, it’s clear she fancies you too, but was scared to admit it, especially when she thinks you were the one setting her up.’

‘Well I definitely didn’t have anything to do with it,’ Draco said adamantly. ‘But how do I make Hermione understand that? She won’t even talk to me.’

‘I’ll have another word with her,’ Blaise said, ‘although I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high because she’s fretting about her exams at the moment and won’t want to deal with anything that will detract from her revision.’

‘I still don’t know why she’s worried about that. She’s going to pass everything.’

‘Possibly not if she gets too distracted,’ Blaise said. ‘That might be enough to derail her.’ 

‘Are you saying I should leave it then?’ Draco sounded despondent now.

Blaise looked at his unhappy friend. ‘No, I’m saying leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do . . . but no promises.’

* * *

‘When you see Hermione next, can you tell her that I know about the ghosts at the Shrieking Shack,’ Blaise said to Harry as they walked out of the classroom.

Ron frowned and stared at the Slytherin boy. ‘What ghosts?’

‘Hermione and Draco both saw ghosts while they were in the Shrieking Shack at Halloween,’ Blaise said, completely unaware that he was giving away a long-held secret.

‘I’ll tell her and get her to have a word with you,’ Harry said quickly, then before Ron could say anything else, he hauled him away.

‘Hermione said she was alone all night,’ Ron snarled as they made their way back towards the Gryffindor common room. ‘Yet she spent it with that snake, Malfoy. She bloody lost the bet and never told us. And all that stuff about being asleep because it was so boring—

‘—and having a go at us for going to the Shrieking Shack. She said we nullified the bet, but she’d already done that.’

Harry let his friend’s ranting wash over him as he thought about the Shrieking Shack. It was true that Hermione hadn’t mentioned Malfoy being there, but then even if there had been no bet to worry about he couldn’t imagine her saying anything to them, knowing how Ron would be likely to react. It did explain a few things though, like why Malfoy kept insisting he was in love with Hermione — Merlin only knew what the two of them had got up to while they were in there.

He had no idea what ghosts had to do with anything, but then remembering the terrifying time he and Ron had spent in there with the vortex, Harry decided he was glad Hermione hadn’t had to suffer them alone, or maybe she wouldn’t have made it through the night. Harry knew Ron wouldn’t agree, especially in his current mood, but it was better that Hermione had come out of the Shrieking Shack safely having had Malfoy’s help rather than going mad or have something even worse happen to her while she was alone.

‘I don’t know why you’re complaining. You tried to welch on the bet anyway,’ Harry pointed out mildly.

‘That’s not the point,’ Ron spluttered. ‘Hermione lied to us. And what was she doing there with Malfoy anyway?’

Harry shrugged. ‘I don’t think they were there together, Ron. It’s quite possible she didn’t even know he was there. It’s quite a big place. I know Blaise said they both saw ghosts, but that doesn’t mean they saw them at the same time, in the same place, or that they were together when they saw them. Perhaps she really did go to sleep and didn’t see him.’

It was clear from Ron’s expression that he wasn’t convinced by Harry’s explanation but apparently couldn’t think of anything else to say. Instead, he loped alongside his friend, seething silently.

Harry was hoping that Hermione wasn’t going to be in the common room as it would give Ron a chance to calm down before he saw her, otherwise there was going to be an almighty argument. Unfortunately, his hope was short-lived as when they emerged through the portrait hole, Hermione was sitting on a sofa near the fireplace, reading. At least the room was relatively empty so there weren’t going to be too many gawkers. He reached out to grab Ron’s arm to stop him, but he was too late.

Without a moment’s pause, Ron stormed over to where Hermione was sitting, his face red with anger.

‘Is it true that Malfoy was in the Shrieking Shack on Halloween?’ he growled.

Hermione looked at him in surprise, her heart suddenly hammering. How the hell did Ron know that? Had Draco told him?

Trying to stay calm, she said, ‘Yes. But I didn’t know he was going to be there. I didn’t invite him or anything.’

Ron glared at her. ‘But you still spent the night there with him so you should have forfeited the bet. You pretended that you were there on your own all night.’

Hermione scowled back at Ron. ‘Actually, before you get on your high horse about this, can I just remind you that you and Harry came into the shack when you shouldn’t have done.’

‘Yeah, but you were with Malfoy by then, so you’d already lost the bet.’

‘I wasn’t “_with_” Malfoy, we just happened to be in the same place at the same time,’ Hermione said, crossing her fingers down by her side, ‘and you reneged on the bet anyway, so I don’t know why you’re getting so bloody upset about it.’

‘It’s the fact that you lied about it that’s annoyed me. You said there was nothing in there, but now Zabini tells us that you and Malfoy saw ghosts,’ Ron said.

Hermione sighed wearily and rubbed her eyes. ‘Okay, so I saw three ghosts. But they all appeared at the same time and I saw them about an hour after entering the Shrieking Shack. Then I didn’t see anything else like that for the rest of the night.’

Once again she crossed her fingers. She assumed Blaise hadn’t mentioned the hags otherwise Harry and Ron would both have been annoyed with her, for not telling them about it at the time if nothing else.

‘I honestly did go to sleep because there wasn’t anything else to do and that explosion woke me up. I went to investigate but saw nothing but an empty room. Then it was light, so I left.’

‘So are you saying you didn’t see Malfoy at all?’ Ron asked suspiciously.

Hermione debated what to say. So far she hadn’t really lied about the hags, she had just omitted to mention them, which she had covered by saying she hadn’t seen anything like the ghosts. But if she told Ron that she hadn’t seen Draco that would be an out and out lie, and would no doubt come back to bite her eventually. It was time to deflect.

She shrugged. ‘I’ll be honest, I thought I saw and heard all sorts of things, but every time I checked there was nothing there. I didn’t know he was going to be there, so I wasn’t looking out for him. Why did he go there anyway? Did you send him to check on me as you weren’t supposed to go there?’

‘We didn’t ask him to go there,’ Ron said indignantly. ‘You know Fred and George were supposed to be doing something for us.’

Before Ron could start questioning her again, Hermione put her book in her bag and stood up. ‘I’m going to put this away and then I’m going down to dinner because I’m hungry. Are you going to come to dinner with me?’

‘We’ll meet you back here once we’ve got rid of our bags,’ Harry said, hoping Ron would calm down now he had got some of his anger out of his system. He looked at his friend for confirmation.

Ron still looked annoyed, but he gave a brief nod to signal his agreement.

‘See you shortly,’ Hermione said and hurried away, her heart pounding like a drum. One day she was going to have to tell her friends about Draco and the hags, but today wasn’t that day. She also needed to see Blaise to learn what he had found out, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. She had a lot of homework to get completed tonight and no time to skive off regardless of what he had discovered.

* * *

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror as she dressed. She was thinking again about what Blaise had told her about the ghosts and their conversation with Draco. They hadn’t specifically told him that she was his true love as they had with her, but then they had no doubt understood that at the time the Slytherin boy wouldn’t have reacted at all well to something that blatant. Instead, they had merely pointed him in the right direction and he had apparently made the connection all on his own.

Although she was tempted to dismiss this as yet another wind-up, Hermione also remembered what Blaise had said about her not believing anything she was told because she was so determined to prove Draco a liar. What if that was true? What if all along he had been straight with her and she had been every bit as stubborn as Blaise had accused her of being?

The truth was that there was only one way she was going to find out for sure, and that meant following through with her agreement to ask Draco out on a date. The thought of it both terrified and thrilled her, knowing that afterwards she would have her answer, for good or ill. But Hermione was dreading having to ask him, having to put herself forward in such a vulnerable way — even the idea of talking to Draco was making her feel sick.

‘Ron told me to tell you to get a move on. He said he’s dying of starvation and can’t wait around for you all day,’ said Parvati, who had just entered the room, breaking through Hermione’s reverie.

The girl grabbed her bag from her bed and almost immediately headed back towards the door.

‘Thanks, Parvati. Tell him and Harry that I’ll be down in a minute. I’m almost ready.’

Parvati nodded, waving her bag as she went. Hermione looked back at the mirror. She looked tired, a mixture of the long hours of revision and her stress at the situation with Draco making her sleep restless and broken, giving her dark circles under her eyes. Although it was the last thing she needed, especially with the exams so close now, Hermione knew she couldn’t wait for another month before this thing got sorted out, whatever she had told Blaise about leaving the date until after the exams were concluded.

She was going to have to talk to Draco, but Hermione knew she needed to pick the right time to do so. It was annoying that today there were no Arithmancy or Ancient Runes classes, so she couldn’t talk to him in one of the alcoves before or after lessons, but hopefully an opportunity would present itself at some point during the day, so there would be no need for her to embarrass herself by doing it in public.

For a moment, Hermione imagined herself and Draco walking through the school, handing hands and chatting to each other as if they were a real couple, but she shook her head to dismiss the thought. That was never going to happen, whatever Blaise believed. No doubt Draco would come up with some excuse and a secret place they could go to, so no one would see them together.

But would that be so bad? It would confirm what she had been saying all along, and then she could end the date and go back to her revision, safe in the knowledge that she was right. Hermione felt a twinge of pain in her heart at that thought. It would definitely hurt to get the vindication she had been waiting for, but at least it would then finally be over.

Hermione forced a smile onto her face and headed downstairs to meet her friends. She wasn’t feeling hungry; the nausea inside her had grown considerably even over the last few minutes, but she could probably manage a cup of tea.

‘There you are. I thought you’d died or something. Let’s go, or we’re not going to have time to eat before our first lesson,’ Ron said grumpily. Without further comment he headed for the portrait hole, clearly eager to get to the Great Hall.

‘Are you okay, Hermione?’ Harry asked, looking in concern at his friend.

‘I’m fine. Just tired. I think all the revision is catching up with me,’ Hermione admitted as they followed Ron down the corridor.

‘So what was all that stuff about ghosts that Blaise was talking about the other day?’ Harry asked.

Hermione looked pained. ‘Do you mind if we don’t talk about that at the moment, Harry? I will tell you about it later, I promise. But I really need to sort some stuff out first.’ She sighed. ‘And I need to talk to Draco too.’

‘Well, now’s your chance,’ Harry said, pointing ahead of them.

Draco was standing alone by the entrance to the Great Hall looking anxious.

‘I didn’t mean right at this moment,’ Hermione hissed in panic, her stomach flip-flopping with dread even as her heart raced as she looked towards the beautiful blond boy.

She felt the strange urge to turn tail and run at the same time as wanting to push him up against the wall and give him a big kiss. A small squeak of semi-hysterical laughter escaped her lips and she found herself slowly backing away.

Harry reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop.

‘I think he was waiting for you, Hermione,’ Harry said somewhat unnecessarily as Draco, having spotted them, smiled broadly.

‘I’m going to be sick,’ Hermione whispered.

‘You’ll be fine. Just go and talk to him,’ Harry said, propelling her forward towards Draco.

‘Good morning, Hermione,’ Draco said.

Harry gave her a nudge and carried on walking, going to join Ron at the Gryffindor table.

‘Good morning, Draco,’ Hermione said, hoping he didn’t realise her voice was shaking as the blood pounded in her veins and her stomach roiled, reminding her of what she had to do.

But suddenly she was tongue-tied, unable to say the words that she knew she should.

‘It’s my birthday today,’ Draco said, seeming not to notice the trouble Hermione was having with talking.

Hermione gave him a weak smile. ‘That’s nice. Happy birthday.’

Draco took a deep breath, then said, ‘I know what you said before, but I was hoping that as it’s my birthday you would agree to meet up with me this evening so we can spend some time together. I’m not sure what to do at the moment, but we could go for a walk or—’

Hermione’s heart raced as she realised Draco was doing what she was supposed to have done. He was asking her on a date . . . for his birthday. Feeling suddenly embarrassed and a bit shy, although she had no idea why, Hermione found herself blushing as Draco continued to look at her expectantly.

‘Okay,’ she just about managed to squeak. She coughed in an attempt to free up her vocal cords, then tried again. ‘Yes. I’ll meet you later if you want.’

Draco’s smile erupted at her words, making Hermione smile too.

‘Thank you so much, my love. You’ve just given me the best birthday present ever.’

Hermione shook her head in amusement. ‘In that case you must be easily pleased.’

‘Not at all. But it means you’ve finally agreed to give me a chance, and that means everything,’ Draco said. He was still beaming.

He took a step closer to her. Hermione had to fight hard not to step back from him.

‘I love you, Hermione, and I’m going to prove it to you,’ Draco told her.

‘Let’s just see how this date goes first,’ Hermione cautioned.

‘I already know it’s going to go brilliantly . . . and I want so much more than one date,’ he said quietly.

Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione’s waist and she thought she had stopped breathing for a moment, light-headedness overwhelming her as she realised they were in the doorway of the Great Hall and could be seen by everyone.

‘Draco—’ she whispered.

‘My sweet, perfect Hermione. I knew you were mine,’ Draco said as he pulled her to him.

Then he kissed her.

Hermione kissed him back, holding tightly to Draco as a myriad of emotions exploded throughout her whole body.

When the kiss finished, he was still smiling.

‘Now do you believe I love you?’ Draco asked.

Hermione, struck dumb and unable to tear her gaze away from him, nodded.

‘And that was a much better kiss than Weasley’s,’ Draco added smugly.

Hermione found she couldn’t disagree, but now her awareness was expanding out from Draco and she realised that there was uproar in the Great Hall as everyone discussed what they were witnessing.

‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ she said.

‘Yes I should. I should just have done it earlier, that’s all, Draco answered. ‘And I think we should do it again.’

‘We are not going around snogging in public all the time.’ Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste.

‘Not after today, anyway,’ Draco said, pulling her close again.

‘Your father’s going to go mad when he finds out,’ Hermione pointed out once the second kiss was over.

‘Yep, I’m expecting to receive a Howler by lunchtime.’ Draco sounded completely unconcerned.

‘We should go and get some breakfast before it’s too late,’ Hermione was now feeling embarrassed with everyone in the Great Hall watching and talking about them. But despite her words she was certain that with the butterflies which were now doing a mad dance in her stomach she wouldn’t be able to eat anything.

‘I really want sugar and spice,’ Draco said, his voice suddenly quiet and seductive and he moved to kiss her once more.

Hermione felt a shiver of excitement run through her, but pushed him away, pulling his hands from her waist.

‘Later,’ she said. 

‘Is that a promise?’ 

‘Maybe.’

This time Hermione smiled at Draco.

‘Let’s go and get some breakfast, then. We’ve got a long and no doubt extremely boring day of lessons ahead of us,’ Draco pointed out.

He took hold of her hand as they walked the few steps into the Great Hall amid loud whispering.

‘I’ll meet you when we’ve finished eating. We can walk to Charms together,’ Draco said.

‘Okay.’ Hermione couldn’t believe she had just agreed.

Draco raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘Make sure you eat something,’ he said. ‘I’ll be watching to check.’

‘Stop fussing, I’ll be fine,’ Hermione said.

‘You definitely are,’ Draco agreed.

He let go of her hand, watching as Hermione walked towards the Gryffindor table to join her friends, then slowly sauntered over to the Slytherin table, where Blaise’s grin was every bit as broad as Draco’s.

‘I see you sorted things out with Hermione, then,’ Blaise said.

‘Yep. The perfect birthday present.’

Draco sat down and poured himself a cup of tea. He looked towards the Gryffindor table, frowning as he took some toast. It looked like Hermione and Weasley were having an argument, no doubt about what had just happened. He would need to do something about that after breakfast if Hermione hadn’t managed to sort it out by then. At least Potter wasn’t giving her a hard time too.

‘Your father’s not going to be very happy when he finds out,’ Blaise said.

‘No, but as I told you before, I really don’t care about that.’

Draco realised he was starving and piled his plate with food. Once he had finished eating he looked at the stack of cards and presents that were waiting for him. He wasn’t really fussed about opening them, not now he had got what he really wanted, but he supposed he ought to make an effort, especially as most of his friends probably weren’t too impressed with his behaviour this morning. He opened the first card. It was from Blaise. Slowly he made his way down the pile, thanking his friends as he went.

Once all the cards and presents were open, Draco looked over at the Gryffindor table again. It appeared the argument with Weasley was over for the time being, which he was pleased about. Hermione was sipping pumpkin juice as she read the _Daily Prophet_. Potter was talking to his girlfriend and Weasley was talking to Longbottom. No immediate cause for concern there.

As he watched Hermione, she looked up from the newspaper and smiled at him. Draco’s heart raced with desire. He was finally going to get everything he had wished for and dreamt about for so long. It really was going to be the best birthday ever. 

He put the cards and presents in his bag, then stood up.

‘I’m going to walk with Hermione to Charms,’ he told Blaise. ‘Are you coming too?’

Blaise wrinkled his nose. ‘No thanks. I have no desire to be a gooseberry.’ He glanced at the Gryffindor table then added, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll stay close in case you need back up.’

Draco snorted. ‘I’m not worried about Weasley. He had his chance and blew it. Hermione’s mine now, and he’ll soon understand that.’

‘Yeah? Well, just in case—’

Draco moved away from the table. Crabbe and Goyle stood up as if to follow him.

‘You two can stay here as well,’ he told them. ‘Blaise, make sure they don’t get in the way.’

Blaise grinned. ‘Don’t worry, lover boy. The two of you will be left alone. I promise.’

‘Cheers. See you later.’

Draco wandered over towards the Gryffindor table, aware that everyone still in the room was watching him. As he got closer he realised that Weasley was scowling at him, his face red. Interestingly, Potter still didn’t seem to be interested.

Hermione had stood up, putting her napkin on her plate, then she picked up her bag and came round the table to meet him.

Draco held out his hand to take her bag. He slung it over his shoulder, trying not to look surprised at how heavy it was. Merlin only knew what Hermione was carrying around in there.

He held out his hand again and Hermione took it.

‘Ready?’ he asked.

Hermione nodded but didn’t say anything. Her eyes were shining and Draco thought she looked beautiful.

‘Did Weasley give you a hard time?’ he asked as they left the Great Hall and slowly walked through the Entrance Hall towards the corridor that led to the Charms department.

‘It’s all just bluster. He was the same with Ginny when he found out she was going out with Michael Corner. He’ll be okay once he gets used to it.’

‘I thought I was going to have to step in.’

Hermione snorted. ‘I’m perfectly capable of sorting out my friends on my own, thank you very much. I suggest you spend your time sorting out yours.’

She indicated over her shoulder to where Crabbe and Goyle, being held in check by Blaise, were scowling at she and Draco as they walked hand in hand down the corridor to the Charms classroom.

‘They’ll get used to it too . . . or they won’t. But to be honest, I don’t really much care either way,’ Draco admitted.

* * *

‘We really need to be going,’ Hermione said, looking at her watch. ‘There are only fifteen minutes left until curfew and I need to get over to the other side of the castle, and you need to get back to the dungeons.’

Draco sighed and hugged her tighter. ‘I know a shortcut. I can get you back in ten, so we’ve got time for at least another couple of kisses.’

‘What, because we haven’t already kissed enough today?’ Hermione asked, sounding amused.

‘We’ve got a lot of time to make up for,’ Draco pointed out.

‘And we’ve got plenty of time to do that making up, but right now I need to go back to the common room before I end up in detention.’

Sounding resigned, Draco said, ‘Just one more kiss then.’

As they walked along the corridor afterwards, Draco said smugly, ‘I didn’t even need to use mistletoe this time . . . thank Merlin. Mind you, I’ve got no idea where I’d find some at this time of year if I’d needed it. But I really want more, Hermione. I can’t wait to make love to you, to finally get you naked and discover if you really are completely made of sugar and spice.’

‘We need to take things slowly,’ Hermione said. Draco looked as if he was about to protest, but she put her hand over his mouth for a moment to stop him. ‘I like you, Draco, I _really_ like you, but you know I was already worried about what a relationship between us would be like, and that was before we got so close to the exams. I can’t do anything that would risk me failing them, not now. Surely you understand that, don’t you?’

‘We’ve only just got together, so I’m not willing to stop spending time with you,’ Draco complained.

‘I’m not saying stop. I’m just saying slow it down a bit,’ Hermione said.

Draco snorted. ‘If we take it any more slowly we’ll be going backwards.’

‘I’m happy with the kissing and stuff, I’m just not ready to go any further at the moment. But after the exams are over—’

‘I’m not willing to step aside so you can spend twenty-four hours a day revising, especially when we all know that you’re going to get Outstanding in all your subjects anyway.’

‘That’s not a given. And I’m not saying I won’t spend any time with you — we can revise together.’

Draco rolled his eyes. ‘I’m just about done on revising although if that’s the only way I’m going to spend any time with you it seems I’ve got no choice. But we’re not cloistering ourselves away in the Library to do it. We can revise somewhere where we can take regular breaks so I can kiss you.’

‘I don’t think—’ Hermione began.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not talking about anything else . . . unless you change your mind. Sex is a great stress reliever, you know. But there’s nothing wrong with a bit of kissing. That’s not going to put you off your revision.’

‘It depends where you kiss me,’ Hermione pointed out.

Draco grinned wickedly. ‘Don’t worry, love, I’ll save that for after the exams. But then you’d better watch out because there’ll be no stopping me.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ Hermione said.

‘Oh, we will,’ Draco promised.

They had arrived outside the door to the Gryffindor common room, where the Fat Lady was clearly trying to pretend that she wasn’t watching the couple. Hermione looked at her watch again.

‘You’d better go or you’re going to be late,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to get into trouble on your birthday.’

Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione and hugged her.

‘I think it’s a bit too late for that. You heard that Howler from my father earlier. But it was worth it because I got the best birthday present ever.’

‘You’ll get a detention too if you’re not careful,’ Hermione said.

‘That would be worth it as well,’ Draco replied earnestly. ‘Thank you again for today, Hermione. You made my birthday completely perfect.’

‘I’m glad you had a good day.’ Hermione said. ‘But you really need to go now.’

She kissed him.

‘That’s doing nothing to help me leave,’ Draco said once the kiss was finished.

‘If you go now, I’ll give you another in the morning,’ Hermione promised.

‘I thought we weren’t going to keep kissing in public?’ Draco asked, his eyes glinting with amusement.

‘We’re not. We’ve got Ancient Runes first thing and I seem to recall there’s a nearby alcove available.’

‘Until tomorrow then, my love,’ Draco replied. ‘Sleep well.’

‘I will now.’ Hermione said.

‘Me too. I already can’t wait for tomorrow.’

Draco gave Hermione one last brief kiss, then released her.

‘You’d better run,’ she said.

‘I think you’re right.’

Hermione watched Draco run down the corridor, waving to him as he went. She leant back against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment and sighed contentedly.

‘Are you coming through or not, dear? It’s almost curfew, you know,’ the Fat Lady said.

‘I’ll just be a minute,’ Hermione replied. She was now staring towards the stairs, looking confused.

Draco, who had disappeared down them only a minute or so previously, had just reappeared. He ran along the corridor towards her, waving.

‘Don’t go, Hermione,’ he shouted, sounding out of breath. A moment later he had joined her.

‘What’s the matter?’ Hermione asked anxiously, wondering why he had returned.

Draco bent over, breathed heavily a couple of times, then stood up, grinning.

‘I forgot to give you this,’ he said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rectangle of parchment, then held out to her. Hermione took it, and turned it over, revealing the stylised picture of a heart on the parchment Valentine card that Draco had repaired.

‘I love you, Hermione, and that sentiment is even truer than it was in February,’ Draco said. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Then he was gone, running back towards the stairs.

Hermione opened the card, seeing the possessive text within, confirmation that it was the card she had destroyed and thrown at Draco in her anger.

‘See you tomorrow,’ she said quietly, closing the card, then turned towards the Fat Lady. ‘Flitterbloom,’ she said with a smile.

‘Sleep well, my dear,’ the Fat Lady said as the portrait swung open to reveal the doorway to the common room.

‘I definitely will, thank you,’ Hermione replied as she stepped through the door, hugging the card close to her chest.

‘Everything okay?’ Harry asked with a smile. He was waiting for her just inside the door. ‘You look really happy, Hermione. It’s nice.’

Hermione was glad Ron wasn’t with Harry, ready to have a go at her again. She really didn’t need her other best friend ruining what had turned out to be probably the best of her life so far.

Her smile was beaming as she answered, ‘I am. And it turns out that the ghosts were right after all.’

‘The ghosts from the Shrieking Shack?’ Harry asked. ‘Are you finally going to tell me what they said?’

Hermione gave a wistful sigh. ‘I’ll tell you and Ron all about it in the morning, Harry. Right now I just need to go to bed.’

‘Malfoy worn you out that much, has he?’ Harry asked with a wicked grin.

Hermione said nothing, merely smiling serenely as she made her way across the room towards the stairs to the girls’ dormitories.

As she climbed into bed, having finished her ablutions and changed into her pyjamas, Hermione realised she wasn’t worried about her exams anymore either. With the resolution of her issues with Draco all stress had disappeared and she was feeling as light as a feather. Tomorrow she would tell Harry and Ron everything that had happened over the last seven months, then she and Draco could go forward into their new life together without any secrets or lies to derail them.

Feeling happier than she had done for a long time, Hermione closed her eyes and drifted off into blissful sleep.


End file.
